


There's Something About Time (Vol. I)

by originella



Series: There's Something About Time [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: AU - Time travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amulets, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Explicit Language, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Kidnapping, POV Bella Swan, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Time Travel, magical objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 60,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originella/pseuds/originella
Summary: Bella and Edward have known each other since childhood; he's a popular jock, and she's a bookworm, but it doesn't stop her from falling for him. When she re-discovers a mysterious amulet from an unknown cousin, she realizes she can achieve her wildest dreams. With Edward at her side, the adventure begins, but at what cost will bring these two together, and keep others apart?
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Charlie Swan/Kate Denali, Charlotte/Peter (Twilight), Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Harry Clearwater/Sue Clearwater, Marie Swan/Beaufort Swan, Renée Dwyer/Charlie Swan
Series: There's Something About Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648618
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Not-So-New Bully on the Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally an original work - the first of a three-volume novel - that I wrote when I was seventeen and a senior in high school. I haven't changed much, as I like to see how much I've grown as a writer between then and now. Please be kind.

“Bella Swan,” says Ms. Cope, my humanities teacher. Her ever-present glasses, which are perched on the end of her nose, look like something a 1980’s serial killer would wear. Her short brown hair is clipped too short for the shape of her round face, making it look thicker than it actually is. Her pale green eyes look unemotional and inexpressive at the roll sheet in front of her, which just makes the whole situation even duller. 

“Here,” I said, throwing up my hand briefly. I lower my eyes back to my lap, where my favorite book, _Wuthering Heights_ , is hidden. I nibble at my lip as conflict begins in the story—the lead character, Catherine, seemed to be closing herself off to the love of her life, Heathcliff, in an effort to protect herself. _Sickening_ , I thought to myself, hastily shutting the book and returning it to my backpack.

I turn and look to my left and shoot Alice Cullen, my best friend and partner in crime, a smile. Our mothers met when they were eleven, and we ourselves met in preschool. She has thick blonde hair that anyone would be jealous of, if it weren’t for my impatience for things like that. I’ve taken to flattening my own just-below-the-shoulder-length black hair lately, and wearing purple lipstick to school. I know that Alice thinks that I’m going through a phase, but I call her ‘Silly Ally’ and she knows that’s when to cool it.

“Your essays are due today,” Ms. Cope informs us easily, as she has finished calling roll for everyone.

I retrieve my little stack of papers from my backpack and quickly look them over, noticing Alice doing the same thing. My name, Bella Swan, is on the top; ‘humanities’ is directly under it; with the date—April 7, 2013 on the top; and finally, perfectly centered, “Why Reading Should Matter to This Generation”, a.k.a. my title, is just under that.

I peek over at Alice’s title again, because it really gives me the shivers to think about. “My Own Walk on the Moon” it says below the date, subject, and her name. It has to do with the fact that her dad is an astronomer and named a star after her—which was, first and foremost, the butt of jokes in middle school—but also because she plans on being an astronaut one day in the future.

I hand my own paper to Ms. Cope as she comes around to pick them up and take out my planner. I cross off ‘Turn in essay’, as I’ve already completed that task and tap my eraser against it as a bit of impatience bubbles through me as I wait for Ms. Cope to get back to the front of the classroom. She wears a green dress that I’m sure is meant to match her eyes, but it keeps riding up on her hips in a most unattractive manner.

“As I’m sure you remember,” Ms. Cope begins as she turns to the white board to write down today’s classwork, “this essay is going to be for your second midterm grade. You will receive this essay back within a couple of weeks. And this time next month, you’ll be writing your final essay.” She has selected a blue pen and is writing down: _What does the fact that we want time travel to exist mean?_ “Does anyone want to provide an answer?”

Hardly know what I’m doing, my hand shoots up. 

“Bella?” asks Ms. Cope. 

“We always want things we can’t have,” I reply, knowing that my answer is totally true, because of my curviness over slimness, which is what most boys in Tempus High School seemed to like when it came to the opposite sex.

My stomach always stuck out farther than my too-small breasts, and I wondered when I would thrive in this body I’d supposedly been blessed with. At sixteen, I wasn’t any closer to fully developing than a piece of paper; I was a complete and total wallflower in terms of beauty. It was at times like this that I wished Charlie from _Perks of Being a Wallflower_ was alive, really alive, and not just stuck in a boot. Although maybe, since he was clearly interested in Sam, he wouldn’t be interested in a less-than-attractive junior like me.

I spoke up then, not wanting any ill will directed towards me, but knew that Ms. Cope didn’t like an incomplete answer, let alone a thought process. “We’re constantly looking for something better—the next big thing, if you will—and sometimes that better thing can be construed as defying the odds. I know it’s crazy, but there are things that I want, but I know I can’t have, so I’ve stopped questioning them.”

“Nicely put, Bella,” Ms. Cope says approvingly. She turns to write something else on the board, and I see then that she is writing down, word for word, what I just said. “Oh, dear,” she says then, shaking her pen back and forth. “It looks like I need to get a new pen from the supply room,” she said, annoyance at the back of her tone. “Thought I had a T.A. for these kind of trivial things… I’ll be right back, guys and girls. _Don’t_ destroy the classroom,” she tosses over her shoulder as she leaves the room. 

“Like Bella could ever question anything,” I hear to my right.

I turn and see Jessica Stanley snickering alongside her pair of minions, Angela Weber and Lauren Mallory. I purse my lips and turn away from their laughter. They’d tortured me with mind games for as far as I could remember. It certainly did not make things better that they were all very attractive. 

“She’s so hideous, it’s a scream,” Jessica goes on. “I’d bet she wouldn’t know what to wish for, if she ever got a wish, which she wouldn’t.”

My cheeks burn as I peek over at them again.

“Oh look!” cries Jessica, her face a pretty mask of glee at the expression I’m currently giving her. “It looks like we’ve hurt her feelings! She looks like a dead fish when she’s sad, doesn’t she, girls?” she asks, turning to Angela and Lauren.  
“God, will you three just shut up?!” demands Alice, standing up and walking towards them, a ball of rage.

Jessica knew not to mess with Alice—she literally went white.

Alice’s older brother, Edward, is the captain of the football and wrestling teams, and Alice is the Junior Student Body President, so everyone knows that they’re not a family to be messed with—mess with them, and you mess with a whole lot of “important” people. They also had younger, identical twin brother and sister, in the freshman class, who are named Alec and Jane, who are the faces of music and cheerleading respectively.

I stand up and stand slightly behind Alice, knowing when to intervene if anything decides to go wrong. He may be a senior and totally gorgeous—and more than likely unavailable—but Edward has taught me everything he knows. Hell, I’m probably like a sister to him at this point, and Rosalie Hale is always around him, so they’re probably a thing... 

Alice’s hands are balled into fists. “You know what happens if you mess with Bella,” she growls. “She’s like family to me. Remember last week when Edward threw your precious brother off him in wrestling when he bent the rules, then had the team tackle him when he decided to get further out of line? I’m not that easy, Jessica, and you know it. You know I could take all three of you at once—and Bella could, too, so don’t be looking at her like that—so just lay off her, okay?”

She turns around, then turns back and steps in a determined manner towards Jessica, which makes her flinch, her manicured nails gripping her Prada bag. I watch as Alice chuckles and turns away from her, shaking her head. I give her a questioning look, and my best friend smirks.

“Coward,” she says to me.

. . .

Alice and I are sitting at lunch when Edward, Alec, and Jane come to join us at our round table by the window. The skies are overcast, which is normal Seattle weather, with ordinary gray clouds lining the sky. The only reason Alec and Jane—who are fourteen—have the same lunch with us is that the pair of them are honor students. Apparently, Tempus High School believes that honor students deserve to eat lunch first because of how much brain power they use before noon, or due to the benefits they bring to the school.

I’ve pushed my lunch tray—containing chicken fingers, a Caesar salad, French fries, and a brownie—away from me. I put my head into my hands and begin rubbing my temples. But the pain won’t go away.

“What’s wrong?” asks Jane, sliding in closer to me.

Alice looks at me—at least, I know her enough to know that she is—and nods, though I can only see the gray table beneath my elbows.

“Jessica gave her a hard time,” she says quietly.

“What happened?” asks Alec. 

“Well, Jessica called her ‘ugly’—again! —and said that when Bella is sad that she resembles a…well…”

“A dead fish,” I say through my teeth, the anger seeping through them. “I apparently now resemble something from a food group I don’t even consume,” I say, slamming my head down completely on the table.

There is a second slam of something, which wobbles the table, which makes me pick my head up to investigate further. I am looking at Edward, who is livid with anger. His eyes are blazing, it seems, and he is now looking at his hand in shock, but not at the fact that he’s made a massive dent in the table. I inadvertently stop it from moving, but the crack keeps growing and growing until it stops at my fingertips. I raise my eyes slowly to him—this god of a young man that I’ve come to love more than a brother—and part my lips. 

“Edward?” I ask. 

“What?”

“You…the table,” I whisper.

He lowers his eyes and sees the damage he’s done. “Geez,” he whispers, shaking his head back and forth. “Wow…when I get mad…I get mad…”

“All this because of something some stupid girl said to Bella?” asks Alec, looking from Edward to me.

Edward’s eyes drift from me to Alec. “Jessica is more than a stupid girl,” says Edward vehemently, shaking his head at his younger brother. “She’s a coward. Bella has something that Jessica doesn’t.”

I blink. “Seriously?” I ask. “You can’t mean that! She’s gorgeous and cunning and clever and just look at me! Look at me, all of you! I’m only famous around here because I skipped tenth grade! I don’t have anything.” I rise to my feet, just as it looks as if Edward is going to say something that would be construed as totally Hollywood style. “Save it,” I nearly spit at him as hastily I pick up my lunch tray in one fell swoop. “Rosalie will probably need it,” I say, trying to keep my tears out of my eyes as I dump the uneaten food and run out of there.


	2. Love Yourself

I rush outside to the back buildings after my confrontation with Edward. So what if I skip my next class? It’s just crummy home economics anyway. In that class I seriously feel as if I am stuck in the 1950’s. It’s as if they expect women to be subservient to men in any day and age now.

I dig into my bag for a pack of cigarettes and quickly find them. I find my lighter as well and light it with no problem. I inhale the legal poison into my lungs and find it ironic that they sell a product that, by law, has to say that it has the capability to kill you. 

I wonder, inwardly, if your child smoked, and you didn’t stop them, would you be charged with murder if they died. _Maybe_ , I think. Or at the very least, you’d be charged with child abuse, neglect, or endangerment to that child. But in some states, you get the death penalty for child abuse—if it was an aspect to the murder you committed—so, in a way, those two crimes were one in the same.

I sit upon the concrete ground and puff on my cigarette some more. I decide to text my mother and ask her for that car I’ve been wanting since my birthday last November. I tell her the make and the year—a 2014 Volvo S60. This is why I’m glad my parents are doctors.

I give her the information and she says we can go shopping for it as soon as things manage to clear themselves up at work. Things never “clear up” at a doctor’s office, they only get more hectic, something I knew very well. I remember going shopping for school supplies with my mother and older brother, Jasper, once when I was eight and he was almost twelve. She was in another aisle—one aisle away, in cleaning supplies—while Jasper and I were making a quick stop getting some tuna for our cat, James.

Our mother suddenly got a call on her cell phone from our father. We could hear him saying that there was some big emergency at the hospital—likely a teenage drunk driving accident—and that she had to get there as soon as possible. Without hesitation, we heard her running—but towards the exit! Jasper and I ran after her, but she went into the underground parking garage, got into her car, and never looked back.

I remember clinging to Jasper, now the ultimate authority, who was able to figure out the bus route for us to get back home. One perk about having an older brother was that he got a pretty decent allowance, so it’s not like we were stranded _and_ broke. Once we returned home, he gave me some cookies and milk and let me sleep in his room that evening. Jasper was always a wonderful older brother, and there were times where he was one of my best friends.

I wipe the tears from my eyes at the memory and it is then that I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and shrink back when I see Edward standing there. He swipes the cigarette from me almost immediately and quickly puts it out with his shoe. I hastily stow the box of them and my lighter in my purse and deliberately look away from him. I don’t know if I can face him after my untoward accusation about him and Rosalie Hale.

“Your parents are doctors, you know.”

I shrug—everyone knew that. “Whoop-de-doo. Where did you go to college?”

“Very funny,” Edward says, sitting beside me. “All I’m saying is, you don’t want to get lung cancer or anything, right?”

I let out a scoff then—who would really miss me anyway, apart from Jasper and Alice? I mean, get real... “Would it matter?” I ask, my tone clipped.

“What are you saying?”

I turn and look at him. “I’m saying, would it matter if I got lung cancer? I mean, who would miss me?”

“Are you throwing yourself a pity party?”

I shrug. “Maybe I am.”

Edward sighs. He puts an arm around me. “Why don’t you just admit it, Bella? I mean, it would make things a whole lot easier for both of us.”

“Admit what?” I ask in that clipped tone of mine.

“That you’re jealous.”

I turn away from him, shoving his arm off from around my shoulders. “I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”

“You’re jealous of Rosalie, Bella. Admit it.”

I sighed, shuddering. “If you’re implying that I’m jealous of her face, you’re wrong. I would never be jealous of someone for looks. Do you realize how shallow a person would have to be to do that?”

He smiles. “You’re definitely not a shallow person, Bella.”

“Then what am I?” I ask, peeking at him.

“You’re deep,” he replies.

I shake my head at him, turning my head away from him so as I can hide my tears. “It’s not enough…”

“What’s not enough?” he asks.

I turn and look at him. “Edward, you know…”

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what you know?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“But I know you do know, Edward.”

He is staring into my eyes. “Bella…”

I lean in and brush my lips with his before I can stop myself. It is short and bittersweet, but full to the brim of meaning. “You know…” I whisper.

“What do I know?” he asks, not moving away from me.

I desperately want to yank his face to mine and give him the full meaning of what I’m talking about, but I can’t do that. “Do you love her?” I whisper, wanting to get off me as a subject for a moment. “Do you love Rosalie Hale?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“A truthful question,” I reply. “It requires an answer equally full of truth. I need to know if you love her, Edward.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because I’m…best friends with Alice,” I say lamely. It was meant to be, _I’m in love with you, but I’m not that brave_ , I think to myself. I can’t just admit to this guy that I’m in love with him—of course I couldn’t just announce it. It’s just not that easy to confess something like that. All those times I was at Alice’s, pretending that I was fully absorbed in something girly, when I would be watching him punch at a punching bag or something. “As her best friend, I want to know.”

“Would it matter?” he asks.

“Of course,” I say. “If you married her, I mean. Not just anyone is worthy enough to be her sister-in-law.”

“I’m eighteen. I don’t want to get married yet.”

“I’m never getting married,” I say, pulling away from him and getting shakily to my feet as I walk away from him. 

“Never?” he asks, running after me.

“Never ever,” I whisper.

He takes my wrist and spins me around. “That’s a really long time, Bella. What if a guy were crazy about you?”

“It would depend on the guy and how I felt about him, I guess.”

“Don’t you ever think about…?” He trails off.

“What?” I ask. “Getting plastic surgery? Losing weight?” I ask. If those words were knives, it definitely shows on his face. “No. I shouldn’t have to change myself physically in order to get or be loved. If someone loves me, and I love him, that’s great. If he expects me to change my image, and then he’ll consider me, the answer is hell no. You must love yourself just the way you are before anyone will love you, too.”

“No, you’re right.”

I give him a nod. I turn away from him and walk back into the school, and I can hear him walking half a step behind me.


	3. Sleepovers & Flashbacks

Alice, surprisingly, isn’t angry or upset over my little dramatic outburst during lunch earlier that day. She merely suggests that we hang out at my house that night, as my parents will be working late and there is no football or wrestling practice the Friday before a game or a match—Alice is required to attend both for all her siblings’ sake. Alice and I head to my bedroom and complete various and uneventful assignments before finishing everything by five-thirty. We decide to pop in a chick-flick and order an expensive pizza with good toppings as a reward.

I call Pizza Bravo while Alice picks _Mean Girls_ and puts it into the Blu-Ray player of the flat screen in my bedroom. Since I’m the only child who lives at home, and the fact that I’ve been a straight-A student since second grade, my parents spoil me. I know that since I’m their only natural child that I carry a bit of a burden. My parents got married right out of high school and my mom immediately went on birth control. However, something happened in that she was unable to get pregnant until thirty-two, and by that time, they had an adopted son from France—my brother Jasper—to take care of.

Alice excused herself to go to the bathroom and I logged onto my laptop to check my nearly always dead email. I also logged into socialnetworkusa.com to check and see if there were any important notifications. It said that Rosalie was feeling “down”, and part of me wondered if she was trying to get attention from Edward. I went to Edward’s profile and it said that he was feeling “confused”, and I thought then that he was considering getting into a relationship with Rosalie. He must be at least thinking about it, right?

He looked beautiful in the black and white shot that I’d taken of him in my photography class last semester. Inexplicably, he’d been so pleased with that photo—that had gotten me a write-up in the school newspaper and a place in the Tempus Hall of Fame—which featured him shirtless and looking at me with that carefree, sexy smile of his, that he’d made it the picture on his popular profile. Maybe he just liked what the lighting had done to his pecks, which were, in my humble opinion, fine either way.

I went onto Jasper’s profile and messaged him about what me and Alice would be doing that night, which is not something a college brother would normally care about, but this was quite a different matter. Since he was in college and Alice was still a junior, she was still deemed his unofficial girlfriend. I asked her if that meant that they were in an open relationship or something, and she just said that it meant that they would agree not to see anyone else, but not tell anyone that they were actually seeing each other.

Jasper went to the University of Washington, so he visited all the time. However, by his sophomore year, he’d pledged a fraternity and moved out of the massive house my parents were able to buy with their medical practice. It was no secret that he and Alice were practically soul mates. When I caught her making out with him when he moved out last year, I was shocked. My brother —who was eighteen as he’d left high school at sixteen—and my best friend, actually on the road to falling in love?

_Alice told me that during Christmas break, he’d told her that he would drive her home during the party, as her curfew was 10:00 and it was nearly 9:30 by that time. Alice had actually lied. On weeknights, her curfew is 10:00; on weekends, her curfew is 11:30 and on holidays and vacations it’s 3:00 in the morning. She asked if she could drive, as she had just gotten her license and wanted to try it out. Jasper agreed, and they arrived back at her historical-looking house, where Alice slept in the luxurious guest house. Alice had parked the car and turned to Jasper._ _  
_

_“Why are the lights off in the house?” Jasper asked, peering through the windshield. “Are your parents really asleep already?”_ _  
_

_Alice shook her head. “They went away for the weekend.”_ _  
_

_“The twins?” he asked._ _  
_

_“Grandparent’s house,” she replied._ _  
_

_“Edward?” Jasper inquired._ _  
_

_“Went to Crystal Mountain for the senior ski trip,” Alice says, leaning in closer to Jasper, and I knew that she would’ve been nervous beyond belief. “Do you remember,” she says quietly, lowering her eyes, “that I said I had that one more present for you?”_ _  
_

_“Yes.”_ _  
_

_Alice raises her eyes and smiles. “It’s inside,” she says, nodding to the guest house. “Come on,” she says, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and getting out of the car. She told me that she shivered a bit from cold and from anticipation as she struggled in the darkness to get the key out of her purse. I remember getting nervous with her as she said that Jasper willingly followed her into the guest house and shut the door behind him._ _  
_

_Alice crossed the room and removed her heavy winter coat, revealing the pretty red dress she’d worn at the party. She pressed the play button on her massive stereo system, which had a holiday love songs CD in it, and went to the kitchen and made them each a mug of hot cocoa to calm her nerves. Alice turned around and asked Jasper to sit down as she handed him the warm mug. She said that she’d felt this electric shock type thing when their fingers touched, and by the slight gasp they both made, she knew that Jasper had felt it, too._ _  
_

_She said that she could see in his eyes that he wanted to know what exactly this last Christmas present was. Alice smiled at Jasper and turned away from him and went into the cupboard on her bedside table. She pulled out the box that I’d seen her slaving over what color wrapping paper and what the bows’ fabric should be for weeks, much to my small discomfort and slight annoyance. She’d finally decided on this shimmering gold-like one with a bright red silk ribbon. She placed the card under the bow and walked proudly over to Jasper, who set aside his hot chocolate to take the box from her. Alice said that she perched on the edge of her bed and nearly contemplated biting her nails in anticipation._ _  
_

_Jasper ripped open the card carefully and read the words that I myself had read just days ago. It said,_ To my dear Jasper, I wish you a very merry Christmas, and a happy New Year, and may it be one of our firsts together— Love, Alice _. I remember how she said that Jasper’s smile seemed to light up his face with a lovely kind of happiness which could only be love. He then took ahold of the silk ribbon—after complimenting her on the sweetness of the card—and pulled on it gently. He got it off the box completely and Alice hastily snagged it away from him, planning her next move with it._ _  
_

_Jasper then skillfully unwrapped the box and discovered then that it wasn’t a box, as it was tricked out to me. It was actually a massive book entitled Torts: Cases and Materials and it was the twelfth edition. I knew how much it had set Alice back—nearly two hundred dollars because she insisted on buying a new one from our favorite shopping site—but I knew she would never tell Jasper that piece of information._ _  
_

_“I know that you said you were planning on going to Yale,” Alice found herself saying in the silence of the room. “That you want to be a lawyer. I read that every lawyer has a class about that book.” She nodded to his hand. “I really hope that you can use it.”_ _  
_

_Jasper smiled. “I got in.”_ _  
_

_“You…got in?” Alice whispered. “You got into Yale?”_ _  
_

_Jasper nodded. “Yeah, I did.”_ _  
_

_Alice grinned and threw her arms around his neck. By that time, she’d tied the red ribbon around her neck into a fashionable bow. “I do have just one more present for you,” she whispered._ _  
_

_“Yes?” he asked._ _  
_

_Alice pulled back and raised her neck, so as he could see the ribbon. “This is your present,” she said, gesturing to herself. “Me. I’m your other Christmas present,” she said proudly, almost as if she was shocked that she’d managed to pull this all off. “I love you, Jasper Swan. I’ve always loved you… For a very long time, now.”_ _  
_

_She said that Jasper had smiled and put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him. “I love you, too, Alice Cullen.”_

“And then we…you know,” Alice finished, turning red.

“You slept with my brother?” I’d demanded in mock shock as I pretended to be totally and completely pissed off.

She lowered her eyes. “Yes.”

I smirked, enjoying this. “Why?”

“Like I told Jasper…I love him,” she said softly.

I sighed. I just couldn’t believe it. Well, I guess that’s hypocritical, as I’d fallen hard for Edward after graduation from middle school...

_I was thirteen, and he was fourteen going on fifteen, and we were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at a party to celebrate the graduation and Edward’s upcoming birthday, as Mr. and Mrs. Cullen would be on a business trip the day of._ _  
_

_Alice randomly chose to send me into the closet with Edward. I felt that my mouth went dry as Edward took my hand like it was no big deal and led me to the closet in the Cullen’s basement. I remembered hiding there during hide and seek thousands of times over the years, but this was different. I wasn’t hiding; I was in the closet with a guy I had a serious crush on, that was threatening to become love at any moment._ _  
_

_Edward went into the closet and I willingly walked after him. Alice giggled with all the other boys and girls at the party and they shut the door behind us, still giggling. “The time begins now!” she hollered._ _  
_

_“Do you want to turn the light on?” I whispered._ _  
_

_Edward shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”_ _  
_

_I switched it on and turned to face the wall behind me. I made a mental note to pull down one of the sleeves of my dress and give my hair a messy appearance and smear my lip gloss when all at once, gentle hands were on my shoulders, turning me around. I turned and looked at Edward, many unanswered questions riddling my face._ _  
_

_Edward smiled. “Why did you turn away?”_ _  
_

_I lowered my eyes. “Well, because I’m not…pretty.”_ _  
_

_“Don’t say that,” said Edward, knowing what I was going to say. “But if you’re scared, we don’t have to do anything.”_ _  
_

_I shook my head. “No, that’s okay. What would you want to do?” I asked, looking up. “I mean…what do people normally do here?”_ _  
_

_“Five minutes!” Alice yelled from outside._ _  
_

_He smiled. “Have you ever kissed a guy?” he asked._ _  
_

_I nodded. “Yes. Bobby Andrews last year, except he kept his mouth closed and the lights off the whole time.”_ _  
_

_Edward laughed at that notion. “Well, I promise, I’ll kiss you with my mouth open and with the lights on.”_ _  
_

_“You won’t…be grossed out?” I asked._ _  
_

_“And why would I be grossed out?”_ _  
_

_“Well, because I’m…”_ _  
_

_“You’re_ not _ugly,” Edward says, squeezing lightly on my shoulders in order for this realization to sink in. “Whoever says it isn’t true. They’re just cowards. And you probably have something that they don’t have, you know? Like the way you help people, or your happiness on pretty much everything, or those pictures that you take…”_ _  
_

_I reached up and put my hand to his lips. “Stop,” I say, but I am smiling so he knows I’m not angry or annoyed._ _  
_

_“Three minutes!” Alice shrieks._ _  
_

_“We don’t have to do this,” Edward says softly._ _  
_

_I step closer and put my cheek on his chest. “I don’t mind, really. As long as you want to, I don’t mind.”_ _  
_

_“Do you like me, Bella?” he asked._ _  
_

_I pull back, thanking heaven that I don’t blush. “Well, of course I do. I mean, you’re my best friend’s brother. Why wouldn’t I like you?”_ _  
_

_He nods, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite place—sadness? I wonder if it is remorse._ _  
_

_“Two minutes!” comes Alice’s voice._ _  
_

_“Edward?” I ask. “Are you okay?”_ _  
_

_He nods, and the look disappears from his eyes. “Right, yeah,” he says, almost as if I’ve asked him to carry something heavy for me. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”_ _  
_

_“Well, because I thought—”_ _  
_

_“One minute,” Alice says, her voice deathly calm now._ _  
_

_“Well, it’s now or never,” says Edward, stepping forward._ _  
_

_I want to let him know that I’m sorry; to let him know how I feel; to let him know that now or never has a price. I throw my arms around his neck as Alice begins counting back from ten; I can hear her hand on the door as Edward’s and my lips slowly begin to part beneath the other, and let him have my first kiss—my first real kiss._


	4. The River Vortex/Commitment Issues

I am more than a little relieved when Alice comes back to my bedroom, the pizza boxes gripped in her slender hands. I quickly get back to my profile before she sees me drooling over Edward, and tell her about messaging Jasper. At once, Alice pales and quickly pulls out her phone and runs off down the hall to make a call. I know why she’s freaking out. Since she and Jasper have been the only people they’ve ever been with, they only used condoms for the first couple of months. Shortly after Valentine’s Day, I was the only other person aware that Alice had had a pregnancy scare, and she immediately got on the pill. I also knew that she was feeling insecure about the whole thing and needed to talk to Jasper every night.

I manage pull myself up into a sitting position and pull my knees to my chest, and wonder if my first time will be as beautiful and as full of love as Alice’s and Jasper’s was. I watch Alice’s shadow dance on the opposite wall of the hallway, and vaguely hear her speaking to Jasper. She is telling him that she wants to go out tomorrow, but I can tell, based on her tone, that he is unsure if he wants to, due to the secrecy.

“Fine! Tell me when you’re sure!” Alice cries, her voice catching at the end of the sentence, and she hangs up her phone and returns to my bedroom. She gives me a look and sighs. “I’ve got to go…”

“Go?” I ask, hating myself for allowing my voice to rise an octave, or three. “But… What about the pizza? And the movie…?”

Alice sighs, really looking like she doesn’t need her pathetically single best friend raining on her parade right now. “I really need to go to the frat house. I need to work things out with Jasper, Bella—we can’t be fighting like this. He’s the one…”

“But you’re sixteen, he’s eighteen, you have time to decide…”

She smiles. “I decided a long time ago, Bells. Just like you,” she says, picking up her things and walking out of the room.

“Alice?” I ask, and do my best to hurry after her, but she’s gone out the side door down the hall and is already gone.

I shake my head and return to my bedroom, kicking my sneakers to the side in a moment of anger at Alice. I lie down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I wished my doctor parents were home more often than just an occasional weekend and nights; I wished that Jessica would leave me alone; I wished that Edward would notice me in that way… The list went on for my wishes, but those were the main ones.

I’m reminded of the song that my parents claim as their own. It was called _Heroes_ , and it was by some British guy named Edward Bowie, who was big in the 70’s and 80’s. It’s the only song that Jasper and I really know of his, considering that he was born in early 1995 and I was born in late 1996.

We weren’t really big on what we deemed “old stuff” although the real “oldies” were, of course, from the 50’s. I know that my parents first met in high school, and part of me wonders if my dad was in a band or something, considering that they actually have a song. I wondered if my mother was as pretty then as she is now. I recalled finding a picture of my mother from her freshman year of high school, and she was incredibly plain, just like me. However, by her junior year, she’d blossomed, and so my father took note of her, although he claimed to have been crazy for her the moment that they first met, in what they called, in those days, junior high, where he’d first seen her at thirteen.

I shut my eyes and try to imagine high school life in the late 70’s and the early 80’s—the fashion, the hair, the etiquette… I’m sure there were many stricter rules to adhere to, more than today’s standards. I sigh and find that I am twisting the silver chord of my necklace that I received that last Christmas. All I really remembered about it was the fact that my mother had called it an “amulet” and that it was supposedly “special” and that it could supposedly grant wishes if you twisted it three times around your right index finger, shut your eyes tight, and wish, wish, wish— _Yeah, right_ , had been my first thoughts on the matter.

I sighed. Man, there were so many things to wish for. _Okay_ , I thought. _My homework is done, and it’s a Friday night, and Alice has officially ditched me, so what else is there to do_? I sat up in my bed and propped up the pillow and leaned up against the wall. I twisted the necklaces’ chord around my right index finger three times and shut my eyes tight. The only thing left to do was wish, wish, wish.

I sighed, feeling very stupid as I formed my thoughts into words. “I wish I could meet my parents before they became total and complete workaholics,” I whispered, the whole “this is bullshit” ringing true at the back of the statement.

Then I felt like I was on fire. It also felt like there was an earthquake. I opened my eyes and my bed was literally shaking underneath me. I felt myself gasping as I turned this way and that, wondering what was going on. I tried to get off the bed and into my doorway, but I couldn’t do that, either. My room was being sucked into this black void that smelled like saltwater, and whenever I tried to get off the bed, it felt as if there was some sort of force field all around it, preventing me from going anywhere.

I hastily took my necklace back into my firm grip. I twisted it three times around my finger, all the while shaking. I screwed my eyes shut tight as a cool wind cut through me, making me shiver. “Please,” I begged. “Make it stop! I’m begging you, quit it! Forget my last wish and take me home! Make everything normal again, please!”

And then, the wind suddenly cut off as if it never was. I didn’t hear the sucking sound of what could only have been a vortex—or a cyclone. My bed stopped vibrating, and, when I opened my eyes, my room was completely the same. I stood up on my bed and tentatively moved closer to its edge. I put out a hand, and detected no sign of a force field. I was still shivering, however, so I quickly returned to a sitting position upon my bed.

I turned and looked at my clock, and the numbers read midnight. I sighed, realizing then that Alice had left shortly after six-thirty. So I’d been unconscious or something. Maybe I’d been pulled into the vortex and I’d had to fight to get out of it. Maybe I’d hit my head and was in some kind of alternate universe or something. I didn’t even want to think about it, and I quickly unhooked my necklace and buried it deep in my jewelry box.

I did not want to look at it for a long time.

. . .

The rest of the next week proved uneventful, but on Friday, Alice asked me what I wanted to do for spring break, and I was momentarily shocked at her question. My head snapped to attention. Was it really mid-April already? I just couldn’t believe it. I sighed and tried to eat my turkey sandwich.

“My parents have a medical conference,” I said. “They said that they’ll be in L.A., then Chicago, New York, and Miami for the whole week. So do you just want to pull a half-assed break and spend it all at my house?”

Alice grinned. “Sure!” she cried. “After our sleepover was cut off…” She sighed and shook her head, trying to pick at her egg salad sandwich as she tried to absolve herself of any guilt she felt in ditching me, her best friend, for her boyfriend, my brother. “Jasper and I have decided to take a break.”

I dropped my sandwich at her words. “A break?!” I demanded then. “But why would you want to do that?!”

She sighed. “We just need a break, Bella. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, and we are in love, really, we are.”

I sighed back. “All right,” I said, as Edward, Alec, and Jane moved across the lunch room to join us.

“What’s up?” Jane asked, greeting me with a hug.

“Nothing,” I said, returning her hug before looking over at Alice.

“Since Bella likely won’t leave it alone until I tell you, Jasper and I have formally decided to take a break,” Alice informed the three of them as they sat around us.

“Why?” Alec wanted to know.

“Because we just weren’t seeing eye to eye about certain things,” she explained, picking at her sandwich with her fingers.

“Did that jerk find someone else?” little Alec demanded, rolling up his sleeve and trying to look vengeful as he made his hand into a fist. “When I get my hands on him, I’ll—”

“Alec Henry Arthur Cullen!” Edward cried, shaking his head at him. “You know that isn’t appropriate behavior!”

“Well, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, it’s not like he has a perfect example of how to behave,” I mutter under my breath before I can stop myself.

Edward went white. “I told you, Bella, I…”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But Bella—”

“No,” I say again. “Now if you’ll all excuse me, please, I’m due in the library for inventory,” I said firmly, getting to my feet and dumping the remainder of my lunch, just like last week, into the oversized cafeteria trash can. I headed down the hallway then, the most direct route to the library, hoping against hope that nobody would follow me. But, in a high school like mine, there was no such luck.

I flashbacked to what I’d seen in the locker room, and I felt heat and anger all over me. I envisioned Rosalie’s hands running all over Edward, and my heart hurt as I considered him bending his head down to kiss her. I quickly dashed the tears from my eyes, biting my lip as I hurried towards the library.

“Bella, wait!” Edward cried.

“No.”

“What you saw,” he said, hastily running ahead of me and grabbing me by the arm, “that was nothing!”

“And why would I care?!” I demanded.

Edward looked shocked at my tone of voice. “Well, because you…”

“I what?!” I cried.

He hesitated before speaking then. “You…love me…feel something for me…”

I scoffed, although my heart ached to tell him the truth. “You wish,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice from cracking. “That is not happening, Edward, and it never will.” I brushed past him and walked into the library, ignoring his hands and managing to evade them completely, although the thought of his hands on my skin was intoxicating.

Part of me thought I heard him whisper, “But I want it to happen,” but I thought I was dreaming—I had to be dreaming. There was no way in hell that Edward would ever want anything to do with me romantically, and I just had to face facts. I had to be hearing things, for the only way that Edward could ever want me is when hell froze over.

Of course it was obvious to him what I was upset about, although I really had no right to be, of course, given our current situation. I’d been changing yesterday from yoga, and was wearing my sweats and my sports bra when it happened. I had heard some giggling that could only be identified as Rosalie Hale. It made my insides turn to muck as I heard it and I quickly hauled off my sweats and put on my jeans and my pink t-shirt. I was just lacing my shoes when I heard a voice. 

“Rosalie, I told you…”

“Oh, come on, Edward!” she said in that high-pitched, whiny voice of hers. “I want to, so what about me? What about what I want here?!” she demanded. “Come on, I mean…you’ve made-out before, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Edward replied tightly.

I clamped a hand over my mouth in a moment of shock. I just had to hear this particular part of the conversation.

“But you know we’re not talking about that, Rosalie.”

“Just answer the question, Edward!”

He sighed. “Yes. I have.”

“Who was it?” she wanted to know.

I saw him shaking his head and stepping a few steps away from her. “I don’t want to go dragging her into this.”

“Edward, she’s already in this,” Rosalie whined, stepping closer to him.

Edward pushed his hands away. “Rosalie—”

“Who was it?!” she cried, grabbing onto his shoulders. 

“Bella.”

“ _Bella?!_ ” she spits. “That thing?! Are you insane?!”

“No,” he replied, looking slightly hurt.

“Then why would you kiss her?!”

He sighs again. “Because…”

“Oh, you were just using her, weren’t you? You felt sorry for her?” she asks. “Now, Davey, tell me that it didn’t mean anything.”

“It didn’t—”

It is then that I step out from behind the lockers. “Why, hello, Rosalie,” I say calmly, slightly enjoying how shocked she looked. “Hello, Edward,” I say, still calm. I notice Edward’s stunned expression, but I merely smile at him. 

“Bella, what are you—?” he starts.

“I know what you were going to say,” I say quietly then, and he looks confused. “I don’t mean anything to you at all, right? Well, to set the record straight, you never meant anything to me either, Edward, don’t worry.” I give Rosalie a smile. “Be careful if you do end up doing anything with him,” I tell her. “He has commitment issues,” I explain before turning around and walking out of there.


	5. Strangers in ‘82

I am hardly paying attention during inventory, so the exasperated librarian sends me away so as the operation can be in more capable hands. She’d given me tons of looks that afternoon, and her only logical explanation for my attitude is probably that I got drunk or stoned during lunchtime or something. It makes me sick to even think about, for whenever drugs entered my system, I got sick.

I shrug it off and left the library and inexplicably roam the halls for what feels like days. I feel naked, despite my jeans and peasant blouse, yet I know what I’ve got to do, what I really need to do, to get out of this funk I’m in. And what I really need, my body is telling me, is a cigarette, but to smoke a cigarette, you need to conceal yourself.

I go back to the series of back buildings that the school has that are mainly used for storage units and things like that. I go to the farthest one and lean my back up against it, sighing deeply and breathing in the spring air. I shut my eyes and fumble with my bag, and manage to pull out a box of Camels—which I’d stolen from Jasper’s bedroom.

I pull out the lighter that some guy inexplicably sold to me—despite the fact that I’m very much underage—because of my bribe of a fifty-dollar bill. I position the tobacco stick between my teeth and expertly light the lighter. I’d had a couple of cigarettes with Jasper whenever our parents were out, or at the couple of frat parties he’d snuck me into. You’d be surprised just how much college guys would do when they’re drunk out of their minds with a plain-looking high school girl—I was surprised that drunkenness wasn’t a synonym for stupidness.

I inhale on the cigarette, my body entirely used to it now. I also pull out my phone and ignore the various texts that continually pinged into my phone. There was one from Edward: ‘Can we please talk?’ One from Alice: ‘We still on for this weekend?’ Then one from Jasper: ‘I need you to talk to Alice for me, please! She needs to reconsider this ‘break’…’ Then there was one from my mother: ‘Dad and I need to be at the practice again tonight. Order a pizza or something.’ I ignore each and every one of them and go to the home screen before clicking on the app that reads: YouTube.

The screen cooperates very easily—the plus side about being a doctor’s kid is that you constantly seem to have unlimited cash to buy whatever you want, and this is mainly books for someone like me. Sometimes I will even splurge a little and buy a new phone—although never an iPhone—or something, but that’s very rare. It’s better for Jasper, when it came to decorating his bedroom in the frat house.

The YouTube app is ready to me to pick through it. I click where you’re supposed to search through the videos and inexplicably find myself looking this up: _Heroes, Edward Bowie_. I get the music video, and hastily click on it, revealing a man who is beautiful in an ethereal sort of way, and is illuminated in what looks to be a constant spotlight.

And then he is singing, in a voice so pure and clean that I almost can’t believe that it’s the real thing—it is so unlike anything I’ve ever heard. “We could steal time, just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d’you say?”

I feel myself quaking in my shoes as I take another inhalation on my cigarette, hardly believing that this beautiful thing is actually my parent’s song. I shut my eyes and reach up to my neck, and am shocked to find the necklace there. I must have dug it out from my jewelry box earlier this morning, in hopes that it would bring me luck or something.

I find myself spinning it three times around my fingers, with my eyes shut tightly. _I wish that Edward and I could go to a less complicated place_ , I thought to myself. Crazy, isn’t it? Well, I mean, maybe it was, but everyone in their lives wishes for the love of their life to go away with them at some point.

“Bella!”

My eyes snap open as the wind begins picking up. “Edward!” I shout, discarding of my cigarette and putting the box and the lighter back in my bag. I hastily walk around the building and see him running towards me. “Edward, I’m sorry about before, I—”

I hear something whistling behind me then, and when I hastily turn around, my hair billowing out all around me, I see a scene that belongs in something like _The Wizard of Oz_. I see that Edward is confused, because in a place like Washington State, tornadoes, twisters, and other things like that, just don’t happen. The occasional tsunami could happen, depending on how close to the coast line you were, but this was no tsunami. As the saltwater smell enters my nose again, I find that we are rushing towards one another, gripping each other for dear life, and afraid to even move to safety.

“What’s happening, Bella?!” he demands.

But all I can manage to get out is, “My fault…my fault…”

The vortex drifts closer and closer to us, and I find myself hiding my face in Edward’s shirt, just like the closet, his arms strong around my frame. I find that I’m shaking, and that the feeling of his arms tightly wrapped around me, sooths my fears. It is then that the ground starts to shake, and I feel myself being pulled into the direction of the seawater vortex. Edward is trying to hold me back, but we are both swept up into its darkness.

Then there’s that feeling like you’re flying and you’re about to wake up from you’re half asleep state. We are drifting what seems to be a place without gravity, and I’m afraid for our safety. I’m still holding onto Edward, and he hasn’t released his grip upon me. And then we’re being thrown, almost like the vortex has consumed us, thinks we’re disgusting, and chews us up before spitting us out. Our screams cut through the air, but are replaced almost at once by groans and moans and other sounds of pain as we hit the ground, hard.

I pick up my head when my ears stop ringing and look around me, and cover my mouth for fear of screaming. We are on grass and, as I get to my feet, I find that we’re standing in the same place as we were before. The grass looks soft and clean—not dingy and pale yellow and covered with bare patches of dirt as it was before. Except for the fact that the back buildings are not the unattractive gray and visibly filled with classroom supplies. They are all the colors of the rainbow, and filled with teenagers, just like Edward and me. I lower my eyes to my necklace, and see that it is smashed and broken. I quickly put it under my shirt and make a note to keep it there, for I know I will eventually have to tell Edward that our method of transport back home was in jeopardy.

“Edward!” I cry, suddenly remembering that he is supposed to be with me. I look to my left, and seeing him lying beside me. I try not to scream when I see a bit of his face is cut up from a lone rock. “Edward, are you all right?”

He moans and opens his eyes. “What happened?”

I sighed, not knowing whether I should answer that question or simply inform him about his face. “Edward…we’ve gone somewhere.”

“Gone somewhere?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes. Traveled, if you will…”

“Traveled?” he demands, sitting up and looking around, and I wonder if he is looking for a package of airplane peanuts, and curse myself for my stupidity. “Tell me what’s happening, Bella! I mean where are we—?” He gets a good look at the back buildings before us and gets shakily to his feet. “Bella…” He whispers.

“Yes?”

“My mom and dad have pictures of them with your parents outside these buildings,” he says slowly, attempting to grasp at the situation. “They’re this color, and our moms have freaky looking hair and our dads are wearing these…glasses…” He turns to look at me, and shakes his head. “You know that picture?”

I nod. “Yeah, I know that picture.”

He shakes his head, and the words that he says next confirm the power in my necklace, and my fears. “That picture was dated 1982.”

. . .

Edward and I managed to get into a seemingly deserted bathroom so as I can see to his cut. I’d initially dragged him behind the first stretch of trees beyond the back buildings and showed him with my makeup mirror, but then he’d tried to fix it himself, and that wasn’t happening. I pulled out one of those brown scratchy paper towels and pushed down the warm water faucet and moved to gently dab Edward’s face.

“Ow! Hey!” he cried, pulling childishly away from me. “That hurts, Bella! Can you at least try to be careful?”

I want to scream and throw something at him for acting this way. “Can you at least try to go a day before hurting my feelings more than once in a bathroom type area?” I muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and making it impossible for him to move. “Now, come on. You know as well as I do that we can’t have you walking around like that.”

“People are used to it,” he says.

I shake my head. “Earth to Edward!” I cry out impatiently. “We just deduced that we are, in fact, in 1982,” I say. “Our moms could come in here at any minute to spray their hair, or whatever it is that teenagers do to waste time these days,” I say, trying to keep calm.

Edward smirks at me as I manage to clear away most of the blood away from his face. He is silent for a moment, almost as if he wants to contemplate what we’re really doing here, and how we even got here in the first place. “You really don’t like what goes into appearance, do you?” he asks.

I sigh and bit my lip as I wring out the paper towel. “I just need to make sure my face is clean, brush my hair and teeth, and get out of the house,” I say in a reserved-like manner. “I don’t see what the big point is about wearing makeup to school anyway. It’s supposed to be about learning, not distractions. Besides, makeup should be for special occasions.”

“I disagree.”

“Do you?” I ask, ladling the sarcasm on thick as I dig into my bag for my emergency supply of alcohol—now this is why you should allow your parents with a medical background to get into your things now and again. I pull a second paper towel from the dispenser and put a bit of alcohol onto it. “Now, this will sting.”

Edward breaths in sharply as I address his cut with the stinging liquid. Otherwise, he makes no other sign of pain, except for shutting his eyes and grimacing. “I just mean that makeup could boost your confidence a little…”

I shrug and finish dabbing the disinfectant and roll my eyes. “I guess if you need that boost,” I say softly as I remove a regular Band-Aid from my bag and place it gently over his cut. I gasp as Edward’s hands touch mine, sending the electric current through my fingers, to my wrists, up my arms, and sending it directly to… I instantly pull back and allow Edward to complete the Band-Aid sticking procedure.

“You okay?” he asks.

I shake my head, then hastily nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. We should get out of here and find out why we were sent here.”

“Do you want to see your parents?” he asks.

I shrug. “Not really...”

“Well, we could make something up…”

I sigh, placing my hand upon the handle of the bathroom door. “I know. We could say that I’m my dad’s cousin Marie—that’s who I’m named after, you know. Well, partially, anyway...”

“If you’re Cousin Marie, then who am I?”

“Well, who do you think you could be?”

“I could pose as your boyfriend.”

I turn away so as he can’t see my face heating in sudden embarrassment, drumming my hands on the door handle. “I guess that’d be fine.”

Edward took me gently by the wrist and turned me around, and I clamp my lips together to avoid gasping at his sudden physical contact with me. “Are you all right, there, Bella?” he asked. “You just look…”

I glare at him. “Stop,” I say firmly, dragging my arm away from his grip. “I’ve got to see my parents.”

We left the bathroom and walked down one hallway and up another. We finally found the main office, which was inexplicably where the teacher’s lounge was in 2013. It was plastered with peace signs and other stereotypical things you would think to see in a place like that, with messages of glad tidings and goodwill that I think must have been left up since Christmas, which makes me want to have some strong words with whoever the decorating committee supposedly was. I remember that my necklace tucked into my shirt, and know that this is our one chance.

Edward took my hand and I didn’t object as we walked in, holding the note that I’d forged in my great aunt’s handwriting, stipulating that I—in reality my second-cousin Marie—would be staying with my father, Charlie, and that my boyfriend, Edward, would be with me. It also said that they—Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Peter—were on vacation and that they would be unable to be near a phone. I instinctively knew that Edward’s fingers were crossed, and I crossed my own, hidden under the fake note. 

“Excuse me, Ms. Clearwater?” I say in a polite tone, quickly getting a look at the name plate situated on her desk. 

She raises her dark eyes, and she too is wearing those giant-framed glasses, and her black hair is quite large as well. “Yes?” she asks.

I put on a smile. “My name is Marie Swan,” I say quietly, thankful that I will not have to lie about that piece of important information. “My cousin is Charlie Swan, and he goes to school here.”

“Ah, yes, Charlie,” she says, smiling. “He is a very bright boy indeed. What may I ask can I do for you, Marie?”

“Well, my aunt requested that I give a person of authority this note,” I say, handing it over to Ms. Clearwater and peeking over at Edward for luck.

Ms. Clearwater takes the note from my hand and reads through it. “Very good,” she says with a smile. “Charlie is in physics right now with Mr. Banner, and I’m sure he won’t mind you sitting in with him with Edward.” She shoots Edward a smile as she picks up the ancient-looking telephone and places a call. After a moment, she shakes her head and hangs up. “Mr. Banner is probably having his class partake in some wacky experiment for Friday. Why don’t you take this,” she says, handing me back my note, “and this,” she goes on, writing down a note with her official–looking signature at the end.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Of course,” she says in a pleasant voice. “Mr. Banner is in Room 378. Do you think you’ll be able to find it?”

“Yes, of course,” Edward replies.

“Very good,” Ms. Clearwater says.

“Thank you so much,” I say, and manage to get Edward out of there before he begins flirting with her.

Edward and I walked up one flight of stairs until we are on the third floor. The room numbers at present-day Tempus High School only went up to 349, so Edward and I assumed that an addition was demolished. We also came up with all the supplies that couldn’t be gotten rid of had been put into the 2013 deserted back buildings.

We stepped into Room 378 and saw a man with silver hair and a slightly creepy–looking mustache giving a lecture. He had written on a chalkboard—which made me double-take to see—The Feynman Lectures on Physics. He had so far written that it had been published in 1964 and that it was still fairly knew. It took all I had for me not to laugh as I let go of Edward’s hand and advanced quietly towards him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Banner?” I said softly.

He turned around and looked at me, his gray eyes taking me in. “Yes, that’s me. How may I help you, miss?”

“Marie Swan,” I answer. “Ms. Clearwater asked me to give this to you.”

“Marie?” I hear from somewhere in the middle of the classroom.

I turn, and take in my father at seventeen, attempting not to gasp aloud. It takes me all I can not to address him as ‘Dad’. “Charlie!” I cry, grinning at him and waving, which is something totally out-of-character for me, but something I’d been told that my second-cousin Bella constantly did.

“Ah, yes,” says Mr. Banner. “This should be all right. We are only taking notes today, and there is an empty table beside your…cousin.” He gets a good look at me, but then shakes his head and nods for me to go sit at the table next to my dad with Edward. “Some family resemblance,” I hear him say, as Edward and I take our seats beside my dad, and an attractive blonde, who is clearly not my mother, but who is draping herself against him, and he was not stopping her. I grit my teeth and lower my eyes as Mr. Banner goes on with the lecture.


	6. Meet Your Mother—1982 Style

I try to keep my eyes away from my teenage father getting an 80’s rendition of classroom action when he’s supposed to be taking notes on the lecture. I don’t know why, but, even though I hardly see this man, I feel oddly protective of him, and of his well-being. I grit my teeth and both of my hands become fists as I watch Blondie put her right hand onto Dad’s leg, and caress it slightly to let him know that she means business.

“What the hell is the matter with you?!” Edward hisses from beside me. “It looks like you could scream! What’s up?!”

I move my fists so as they’re hidden under the desk and cross my arms, knowing that I have to keep quiet. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” I whisper back, though I do not look away from Blondie’s outlandish behavior. “Be quiet. Mr. Banner’s lecture really is fascinating, and maybe I won’t have to take physics next year, if…”

The bell suddenly rings, and Blondie hastily withdraws her hand from Dad’s leg as we all four get to our feet. I walk up to him and he grins and gives me a hug before turning back to Blondie, and guiding us out all out into the hallway. He gives me a rather large smile that is identical to mine.

“Marie, you remember Kate, don’t you?” he asks proudly. “This is my girlfriend, my better half, all that. Rox, this is my cousin, Bella, obviously.”

I put out my hand automatically, and stare into Kate’s eyes, which clearly resemble glaciers. It is then that I remember, as I shake her hand, that Kate is Rosalie Hale’s mother. I plaster a fake smile on my face as I tighten my grip slightly so as Kate will not think my hand is as limp as a dead fish. “It’s so nice to see you again, Kate,” I say, and I have to admit that I sound sincere. “This is my boyfriend, Edward.”

Edward steps around me and puts out his hand as soon as I release Kate’s. “Nice to meet you, Kate,” he says, putting his arm around my shoulders, so as to act the part convincingly. “I always knew, based on everything that Bella has been telling me, that Charlie would find a good girl for him.”

It is at this moment that the glaciers in Kate’s eyes melt to a self-indulgent warmth. “I must say, Edward, it’s nice to meet you, too. I’d ask if you were named after Edward Bowie, but that really wouldn’t make sense. Did you change your name to Edward for Edward Bowie?” she asks him then, and I feel tempted to smack her.

Edward chuckles. “No. I’ve actually never really listened to him.”

“We like _Heroes_ ,” I say quickly. “I mean, I think it’s got to be the best song of his that I’ve ever heard, personally.”

Kate chuckles and looks at her sparkly watch. “Damn,” she says, wrinkling her lips in a manner that I’d often see Rosalie do.

“What is it, Katie?” asks Charlie.

“I have to go to Home Ec.,” she says in an annoyed tone.

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask, deciding to amend my next statement slightly for authenticity purposes only. “I took it last semester and got an A. It’s such an easy class it’s funny.”

Kate makes a face as if I am gloating. “It’s like the teacher is in some frozen time warp in the ‘50’s. It’s awful!” she cries, her voice whiney.

Charlie puts his arm reassuringly around her waist and kisses her cheek, which makes me want to vomit. “It’s okay, babe, really.” He looks at me and then nods. “Why don’t you go with Kate, Bella? Maybe you can help her.” He turns then to Edward, almost as if the conversation is over. “I actually have band right now. Do you play any kind of instrument?”

“I play guitar,” Edward replies.

“Normal?” asks Charlie, grinning.

“Electric,” Edward admits.

“Let’s go to the band room, then,” Charlie says. “I play electric guitar, too, but my parents try to make it just a hobby.”

“Screw them!” I cry out suddenly, without thinking, hardly believing that I am essentially cursing my own grandparents. 

“Marie!” cries Charlie, obviously shocked.

“I mean it,” I say, getting out from under Edward’s arm. “Don’t be something like a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher just because they want you to be! You should just…I don’t know…follow your dreams. Haven’t you ever thought about what you want?” I ask.

Kate weaves her arm protectively through Charlie’s, which instinctively seems to make my skin crawl. “Charlie has already been accepted to Columbia,” she says in a nails-on-a-chalkboard voice as if she is speaking to a child. “He has told them that he is going, and he will be going, come September.”

“Charlie, what about what you want?” I say, trying my best to ignore Kate, and the institution in which my father received his PhD in Medicine.

Charlie sighs, conflicted. “I want to go to band practice with Edward, and I want you to go to Home Ec. with Kate,” he says firmly. He gives Kate a kiss goodbye and Edward moves to follow him. “Edward.”

“What?”

Charlie shakes his head. “You won’t see Marie for an hour, you know.”

“And?” he asks, not getting his meaning.

Charlie blinks, raising his eyebrows at Edward’s apparent disregard for leaving my side. “Are you two, like, really old-fashioned, or something?”

“Old-fashioned?” Edward asks, confused, as Kate and me—genuinely confused about it all—look at each other.

“Aren’t you going to kiss Bella goodbye?” asks Charlie.

I look at Edward, a lump in my throat. “Well,” I say, hardly knowing how I am managing to form the words, “aren’t you?”

Edward puts on a fake smile and chuckles lightly. “Of course I am!” he says gallantly, crossing the hall back to me. He puts his finger gently under my chin and his lips descend onto mine. It is as if these lips mold perfectly to one another, as if they are made for each other. His lips part mine with ease, and I am not resisting him as another part of his anatomy slips between them, and I force back a squeak of surprise, determined to play the part.

I feel like this moment could last forever, yet I know it cannot. As my knees threaten to give way, I pull away from him and caress his cheek. I am simply playing the role, but I can see that there is something in his eyes that show that he does not want to let me go, as his hands—which were originally on my shoulders—have gone down to my waist, and tightened.

“Edward,” I say in a light, scolding tone as I break away from him to join Kate. “I’ll see you later—you know that,” I go on as I turn away from them and walk down the hall with my father’s girlfriend.

“He loves you,” Kate says, and I can detect a tone of envy in her voice. It is almost as if she is saying, _You’re ugly; you don’t deserve that love_.

I shrug. “I guess.”

Kate keeps walking when suddenly someone comes hurriedly around the corner and bumps into her. Kate’s few books go flying, and the other girls’ papers and various notes and things endlessly clatter to the ground. “Renee Higginbotham!” cries Kate in disdain.

The face that greets mine is so startlingly familiar that I almost lose my footing entirely as I try not to make direct eye contact. “Gee, nice to see you, too, Abernathy,” she mutters, bending down to pick up her scattered belongings.

There is something so familiar about that black hair and the pale, pale skin that makes me want to shrink back in fear and knowing. It takes all my strength for me not to shout, “Mom!” and throw myself into her arms. I want to slap Kate for her rudeness, but I merely make my hands into fists, allowing my nails to bite at the palms of my hands to distract myself.

“Home Ec. is in Room 117, right, Kate?” I ask.

Kate nods, picking up her last book. “Yes.”

“I’ll be right there,” I say softly, bending down to assist Renee in picking up her books and things. Her handwriting is identical to mine, I realize, and each page is riddled with numerous ideas from things that range from bimolecular research to her opinion on world hunger. I gather them up, quickly alphabetizing them in the process—something that she herself had taught me—and hand them back to her. “Sorry about Kate,” I say softly to her. “I just hope she didn’t ruin any of these.”

Renee nods, initially shocked at me alphabetizing her paperwork, before raising her eyes and regarding me closely then. “So, you’re the infamous cousin, Marie Swan, aren’t you?” she asks. “Charlie Swan’s cousin?”

I nod. “Yes. It’s good to meet you.”

Renee immediately takes my offered hand and manages to shake it cordially. “Renee Alice Higginbotham,” she says, and I know then where my best friend got her name. “It’s very nice to meet you, Bella.”

“Where are you off to now?” I ask.

“Band practice,” she replies.

“You play?” I inquire.

She smiles. “I sing,” she says, pushing up her oversized glasses, which I’m discovering are commonplace here.

“Sing, really?” I ask, grinning. “So do I.”

She checks her ordinary watch. “I’ve got to be there now, actually.”

I nod. “I understand.” I get to my feet from the excruciating kneeling/crouching position and smile. “I hope to see you soon,” I say before walking down the hall in the direction of Home Ec., and away from my mother. It is odd, because now I am the one leaving first.


	7. Disposing of the Necklace

Kate was annoyed when I arrived in Home Ec. around five minutes later. This different layout of the school had me totally turned around, but after Ms. Hammond clarified who I was and was allowed to be there, I took a seat beside my father’s nagging girlfriend. Her work partner was absent, so I had to put on a disgusting apron and perform the cooking task with her.

This particular project—blueberry pie—was apparently a difficult one. Each person in the group was to make their own pie, as each pie tin was small and delicate. I did not complain, for I was pretty good at baking. I discovered that Kate was not good as measuring, but I pretended not to notice. _Let the blue permanently stain her face and make my father want to marry my mother!_ I thought, though I quickly banished it from my mind.

I managed to form the homemade crust expertly in the tin, and didn’t even bother to watch Kate fumble with hers. I pressed my fingers gently into the edges of it, just like Mom taught me, and soon the crust was complete. I then checked the instructions for the filling—after receiving praise for my crust and permission to continue from Ms. Hammond—and easily made the bluish-purple liquid with the bumpy blueberries. I made the proper amount before carefully putting it into the crust in the pie tin.

I then receive the last piece of dough, and permission, and put it carefully on top of the liquid blueberries and the crust in the tin. I took a knife and sensibly put two parallel incisions in the direct center of the top of the pie. I then got permission to put it into the oven, along with Kate’s rather alien-looking pie, which was something out of a horror movie.

We set the timer for twenty minutes, and soon each and every oven emitted the luscious smell of the pies. It took all I had to make sure that my mouth wouldn’t water. I resolutely sat at my desk, looking through one of Kate’s library books—which happened to be _The Bourne Identity_ by Robert Ludlum—and I tried to wrap my head around the plot, but all too soon, it was time to remove the pies from the oven.

My pie was golden brown and absolutely perfect, and I had to admit that the color—golden brown like mine—of Kate’s pie was definitely an improvement, though I merely smiled and nodded at her pie. I was informed, since they were merely cheap aluminum that we were allowed to keep the tins. Then Ms. Hammond announced that my pie was the best looking and that I absolutely had to get my picture taken. I shrugged and merely smiled for the camera, showing my pie proudly to it.

Then the bell was ringing, and Kate was gathering up her books and her pie and I followed her, holding my pie closely. We found Edward and Charlie outside waiting for us, and Kate nearly dropped her books and her pie as she threw her arms around Charlie’s neck and kissed him. It took all I had for me not to A: vomit or B: yank her off of him.

“You made pie?” Edward asked, kissing me in greeting.

It took all I had for me not to blush, so I nodded to distract myself. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “You know I don’t eat pie. Do you want it?”

Edward nods and I see that he has developing blisters on his fingers. He takes the pie with his right hand and I delay handing him the plastic fork so as I can grab his hand.

“What happened?!” I cry, ready to play out the concerned girlfriend bit. “You know how important your hands are to me!” I say, kissing the ends of his fingers, while Edward chuckles and Charlie looks amused.

My fake boyfriend clearly looks amused and slightly uncomfortable at this sentence, and my actions. “I was jamming with Charlie,” he replies.

I sigh and pull my bag up from my middle arm, as it had fallen in my effort to show Kate and Charlie how committed Edward and I were. “Well, did you have a good time?”

He nods. “I did.”

I smile up at him. “Good,” I say, getting on my toes and kissing him, and so surprised that he allows me to. “Just be careful next time, okay?”

He nods again. “Sure.”

“Well, that was the last class,” Charlie says. “We just have to drop off Kate at home and then I guess we’ll go to my place…”

“That’s okay, Charlie,” Edward says with a smile, yet my heart drops completely at his next uttered sentence. “Bella and I actually are staying in a hotel. It’s actually only a couple of blocks away from your place.”

“A hotel?” I squeak, wondering when this was going to come up.

Edward puts his arm casually around my waist, proceeding to pick at the blueberry pie. “Yeah, Marie. It was meant to be a surprise.”

Charlie smiles at us. “Okay, and I won’t say anything to my folks—you know how they can get,” he says with a chuckle. “I’ll drop you off there then, and see you for dinner at my house, later, okay?”

“That sounds lovely, Charlie,” Edward replies, managing to finish the pie in one bite, and chuckling as I attempt to wipe off his face with a Wet-One, despite the fact that they hadn’t been invented for eight years, but Charlie and Kate were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

We head out to the parking lot, which looks pretty much the same, except for the fact that there aren’t any cracks in the cement. We walk to a red Mercedes and I nearly gawk at it, but quickly remember that Cousin Bella may have seen it before, so I keep my face neutral.

“Did you wax it recently, Charlie?” I ask, thinking of questions that would be appropriate to ask in this situation.

Charlie nods. “Yeah, I did,” he says, unlocking it and pushing up his seat to let me and Edward inside. “Does it look okay?”

“Especially in the sunlight, Charlie,” Edward replies like a buddy would talk to a best friend in an everyday situation, despite the fact that he was speaking to my father. “Hey, your name is Charlie and you have a hot rod, too,” he chuckles.  
Charlie laughs as both he and Kate get into the front seat. He waits for both doors to be shut and then he sticks the key into the ignition, adjusts the mirrors and his seat, and calls out to the three of us to make sure that we’re all wearing our seatbelts. Well, at least he’s hasn’t ever not been safe.

We drive to what is the nearest hotel to Charlie’s house—a Best Western—and Edward and I get out by hopping over the side of the car, as is custom. We wave goodbye to Charlie, and agree once again to see him for dinner.

As we walk up to the hotel, Edward stops me then, in the center of the parking lot. “You know, you don’t have to do this…”

“No, it’s okay. We may want to talk about home or something and we can’t very well do that with Charlie and Kate around.”

Edward nods. “And…I don’t expect you to do anything, or…”

“It’s fine,” I say. “Besides, we always keep emergency cash with us, so I assume it’ll be fine. I just hope they don’t card us or anything…”

“Why?”

I make a face. “Our I.D.’s don’t expire for six months, which would make it 2014, which is thirty-four years from now,” I say quietly.

Edward smack himself in the head. “I forgot.”

I see a public bathroom nearby and, after ascertaining that nobody is in it, I yank the door open, pull Edward inside, and shut and lock it behind me. “We’ve got to make ourselves look…I don’t know…80’s…”

“But our clothes…”

“What about them?”

“Well, I don’t know, but that Joan Jett and the Blackhearts t-shirt…did you ever have that before now?”

I lower my eyes. Clothes have always been so unimportant to me that I barely ever notice them. I gasp as I see what I am wearing. I am wearing a t-shirt for a band called Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, while Edward is wearing one for the band called Queen. I am wearing skin-tight black jeans and my hair is all frizzy, yet I will still need some makeup in order not to me carded by the front desk. Edward is wearing dark blue jeans, and wearing blue Converse sneakers, like me, except my Converse are black in color.

I know what to do. I barely gasp when I find my bag is full of several different outfits for me, and Edward doesn’t blink when his backpack is full of things for himself. I find makeup and hastily apply lots of dark mascara, dark lipstick, and a proper blush for my skin tone. Eye liner and eye shadow complete the ensemble, and I turn to Edward, who really needs to close his mouth or else he’ll die without oxygen. 

“Edward?” I ask, snapping my fingers in his face.

He blinks. “Sorry. You just…”

“Stop,” I say. I find a pair of scissors in my bag and cut the sleeves away from his t-shirt, exposing his muscles. I cut holes into both of our jeans and admire my handiwork for a moment before wetting my hands and making Edward’s hair stick up on end. Now Edward looked well over eighteen and I looked as if I too could pass for eighteen. I smiled approvingly at him and stepped out of the bathroom before heading to the hotel.

We step up to the front desk and ring the bell. What we assume to be the manager steps up and nods. “A room?” he asks.

I try not to freak that he’s so casual about it all. “Yes,” I say in a neutral tone. “We’d like a double, please,” I say quietly.

“That’ll be fifty,” he says.

I nod and block Edward’s arm as he attempts to pay. I hand him two twenties and a ten, so as to draw less suspicion. The man seems to shrug off that we’re clearly under eighteen and hands us the key to 217, on the second floor. We hop into the elevator and Edward and I remain silent until the doors close.

“What?” I ask at last, fingering the key.

“I could have paid.”

I sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I got us into this.”

He sighs, too. “Why did you ask for a double?”

I blink, shocked that he would even ask me this question—I mean, please. Did he actually expect me to share a bed with him now?! “Because, although we would have my father and Kate believe it, we’re not together, Edward. And we can’t be together, since you clearly want to be with Rosalie Hale.”

“Well, if you would just look at how Kate is draping yourself over your father, there probably won’t be a Rosalie Hale. There probably won’t be a you either, and I’d be just fine with that right about now.”

The elevator doors ding open and let us out. Mutely, I hand him one of the keys and stare at him, trying not to cry. “I’m going to take a walk...alone,” I say quietly to him, forcing the tears not to escape. “Maybe I’ll walk to Aurora Avenue and just make it easier. I’ll get some crazy guy to pick me up and then maybe he’ll shoot me or something. And the way I’m dressed? It’s bound to happen.” 

I turn away from him, leaving him to stand there, call after me, run after me, but with me ignoring him he retreats into the hotel room, like a caterpillar would a cocoon. I feel the tears escaping now as I head out towards the back entrance, my mascara flowing down my face along with the pools of saltwater. I stand out on the back balcony. I pull my necklace out from beneath my shirt, still broken, and glare at it.

I find that my hand, which is in a fist, is shaking. I want to drop the necklace as stare out at the highway, feeling desolate and alone. I want to scream, but find a bit of comfort in the silent tears. I grip the rail in front of me, which was probably designed for wretched souls like me not to commit suicide. It is at this thought that I find myself picking up my necklace again.

“This is your fault!” I cry. “I can’t believe you would do this to me!” I cry out, and unclip it from around my neck and throw it hard into the gutter beneath me.


	8. The Truth about the Necklace

I return to the hotel room after another visit to the hotel bathroom to disguise the fact that I’ve been sobbing my head off. On the one hand, I was crying because the person that I’d been madly in love with for as long as I can remember pretty much said that I shouldn’t have been born. On the flipside, I just got our transportation home potentially lost forever. Now we would probably stay here until a _Back to the Future_ thing was pulled—for example, the moment my father married Kate, or at least chose her unconditionally, and then I would disappear forever into a river vortex of my own.

I unlock the bedroom door and see Edward lounging on one of the beds that he’s presumably claimed for himself. He is holding a weird looking remote in his hand, and he’s watching _Time After Time_ , which has to be a bad joke or something, honestly. I perch myself on the edge of the other bed and watch as H.G. Wells and Amy Robbins get into his time machine in the museum after hours, and I recall that he is trying to prove to her who he really is and that he’s not some creeper. He probably enjoyed their first night together so much that he doesn’t want to lose her or something.

I look over at Edward, who could easily be described as drooling over the female lead—Irina Steenburgen, I think her name is. I dig through my bag, considering what to wear that evening, yet another opportunity to masquerade as someone else. I pull out a mini skirt that is black and a denim fabric and has what looks to be pleats all around the edges. I also find a white, frilly blouse and decide that it’ll be this. I tell Edward that I’ll be taking a shower and leave him enamored with the television.

I find that the hotel towels really are big, white, and fluffy. The bathroom is nice as well, albeit not fancy, however it is quite clean and has that look of slightly upscale. I find some cold cream in the medicine cabinet and am able to remove my makeup without much difficulty. I strip off my eighties clothing and turn on the shower quickly, and am surprised at how similar 1982 water looks to 2013 water. I step into the shower and get a good look at the shampoo and conditioner bottles, and at the bar of soap provided.

I wash my hair and body and feel relief that I will not have to pick up a razor for my armpits or my legs, due to the fact that I had the hair permanently removed soon after beginning high school—thanks, Mom and Dad. After my shower, I am pleased when I find my hairbrush buried under the eighties clothes in my bag and manage to find a hair dryer under the bathroom sink. I brush my hair and blow dry it, and discover that someone has left a can of hairspray under the sink as well, and manage to make my hair huge again. I reapply the makeup in softer tones to designate an evening look and step out of the bathroom.

Edward has his shirt over his head, blocking me from his view, but allowing me to see his beautiful chest. I look away as he stumbles into the bathroom as I go to sit on my bed. I take the remote from the table in between the beds and switch on the television. I find _Manhattan_ , directed by Woody Allen—who I personally think makes great movies, despite the fact that his personal life had given me mixed messages over the past several years—and settle comfortably on the edge of the bed by crossing my legs. Digging in my bag again, I also find a pair of knee socks, and decide to wear my black Converse shoes with them.

Edward has stepped out of the shower by this time, a comb in his hand, and wearing a casual button-down flannel shirt with a plaid pattern and a pair of blue jeans which I haven’t taken my scissors to. I look up at him, and he stops short of seeing me, poised in the doorway, his eyes in a transfixed, yet still respectful, sort of manner, which surprises me completely as he tries to speak and fails miserably.

“Edward?” I ask.

He blinks and clears his throat. “You look really pretty, Bella.”

I smile, not at all embarrassed by the compliment—in fact, it seems like a genuine one, and I appreciate it. “Thank you, Edward. You look very nice, too.”

He crosses the room and kneels in front of me. He takes his hands in mine and stares deeply into my eyes. I think the he will kiss me, but, unexpectedly, he begins to speak. “I just want you to know that I had no right to say those things to you, Bella,” he says seriously. “I was totally in the wrong, and, for that, I sincerely apologize. I just think it’d suck if you weren’t in the world.”

“Why?” I ask him, not wanting to let it go completely. “So Alice would have someone to keep Jasper off of her?” I demand, wanting to pull my hands from his and cross my arms, but make no move to do so.

Edward chuckles. “Well, yes, but there is another purpose.”

“What purpose?” I ask.

He smiles and leans in, kissing me. His hands release mine so as they can go around me, and I find myself not objecting to this. I kiss him back, for this is the first time he is kissing me without anyone telling him to or expecting him to. I wonder what Rosalie would say if she was here, and my eyes fly open, knowing that Rosalie and Edward could be good together.

I pull away from him and clear my throat. “We’ve got to call Charlie,” I say, the name feeling strange in my mouth. “It’s nearly six now and we said that we’d be there for dinner.”

Edward nods. “I understand.”

I lean back and get the phone, and Edward is still on his knees with his head in my lap. I smile at this as I dial the number, the hard plastic numbers on the phone feeling alien to me. I run my hands through his hair, marveling that he’s letting me touch him.

“Aunt Charlotte?” I say to a woman who has answered the phone.

“Marie?” she asks, her voice jubilant.

“Yes, Aunt Charlotte, it’s me.”

She seems to be chopping something in the background—likely, she is in the midst of dinner preparations, but she was always good at multitasking. “I thought we’d never get a call from you. Charlie is just so happy that you’re here, and Peter and I are just so excited to meet the new man in your life. Edward, Charlie said his name was, right, dear?”

I nod, although she cannot see me. “Yes, Aunt Charlotte. His name is Edward. We go to school together.” _Good_ , I think to myself. _That’s not a lie. You_ do _go to school with Edward…_

“What’s his full name, dear?”

“Edward Cullen,” I say without thinking.

Edward’s head snaps up, worry flooding his perfect face.

“Is he any relation to Carlisle Cullen?” Aunt Charlotte asks.

“No, no!” Edward cries.

“No, I don’t think so. And Edward is now shaking his head,” I say, ending with a chuckle as Edward stands up and walks away from me.

“Are you two ready for my chicken parmesan?” she asks.

“More than!” I cry out with excitement, my mouth watering at the mention of my favorite dish in the world.

“Wonderful,” says Aunt Charlotte. “I’ll just send Charlie up there to pick you two up from the hotel. What room are you in, sweetheart?”

“Two-seventeen,” I reply, wondering if it was Charlotte or Peter who managed to get the hotel information out of Charlie.

“All right, dear,” she says, her voice pleasant. “I’ll send Charlie there in the next ten or fifteen minutes, then.”

“Goodbye,” I say. “See you soon.”

“Do you realize that you almost completely blew our cover?!” Edward demands as I turn to hang up the phone.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, okay? We’re stuck here in 1982 until further notice, and that tone of yours just isn’t helping!”

“What the hell do you mean we’re stuck here?!” he demands.

I sigh. “Because the damn necklace broke!”

“I knew that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I saw you trying to hide it in Charlie’s car when we drove over here. Why can’t we just find some hole in the wall jewelry repair shop that’ll do the job for cheap?”

“Because I don’t have the damn thing, Edward,” I say levelly.

He blinks, then gets up off his bed and advances towards me. He hauls me up off the bed by my shoulders and shakes me. “God, Bella, what the hell did you do with it?!”

“Edward!” I cry. “Stop! You’re hurting me! Please let go!”

However, Edward continues to shake me, incensed, and it is almost as if he can’t even hear me at all. “Where’s the necklace?!”

“In the gutter!” I yell, reaching my breaking point, becoming more and more tempted to hit him by the minute.

“What the hell do you mean ‘in the gutter’?!”

“I threw the piece of crap into the damn gutter because I was angry that you said that I shouldn’t ever have been born!”

“I apologized!”

“Well, that was before the apology, genius!”

Edward lets me go and staggers backward, almost as if he will fall. “So…we’re stuck here?” he asks, his tone broken and confused.

I nod. “I guess so.”

Edward collapses into a chair and puts his head into his hands. 

“I guess you can’t be with your precious Rosalie now,” I mutter under my breath as we hear a knock at the door.


	9. Girl Fight

I give Edward a look to appear presentable as I go to the door and unlock it. I make sure to plaster a smile of my own on as I swing the door open. “Charlie!” I cry, throwing my arms around him.

Charlie returns my hug and steps into the room. “Nice room,” he says. I notice that he is pleased about the double beds, but doesn’t say anything. Since my father never had siblings, he was always overprotective of his cousin Marie, and just because she was a year younger than he was, although the fact that he said nothing just made it better.

“Thanks,” I reply. “I don’t think the place is very crowded right now, so…”

He nods and claps Edward good naturedly on the back as the latter approaches him. “Are you ready for a home cooked meal?”

“Always,” Edward says, getting to his feet and putting his arm around my waist, so that nobody would know for a moment that we’d been fighting. “Just lead the way, Charlie.”

We walk out of the room and clearly see Charlie’s car parked in the parking lot, with Kate in the front seat. She is wearing a mauve strapless blouse and what looks to be white spandex pants and black heels—as her feet are up on the dashboard. She has the visor pulled down and is applying makeup—a startling shade of red lipstick is applied to its proper place. She drops her feet onto the floor and flips the visor back into place as we three converge upon the car, her cheeks flaming at the sight of me.

Charlie pulled his seat forward so as Edward and I could get into the back. I had no plans on sitting with him, however. I turned to my technical cousin and made my eyes rather large. This is what I’d done with Dad in the past when I’d wanted something, when he’d been around more, and it always worked.

“Charlie,” I asked in my most innocent voice, “I’d like to drive.” I can see Kate start to protest but I don’t even look at her. “Please.”

Charlie shrugs and immediately tosses over the keys. “Go ahead, Marie. I have complete confidence in you.”

I shoot him a grin and don’t make eye contact with either Kate or Edward as Charlie climbs in the back with the latter. I return the seat to its former position and let myself inside the car. I shut the door with a careful slam and buckle my seatbelt, and hear two clicks behind me as both Charlie and Edward do the same. I look over at Kate, who looks as if she wants to shoot herself, who has just started puffing on a cigarette.

“Seatbelt, please, Kate,” I say softly to her.

Kate shoots me a look, and takes a long drag on her cigarette. She blows it right into my face, and leaves a lipstick mark on it. “Why?” she asks.

I narrow my eyes slightly. “Because I’m the driver,” I say firmly. “The driver gets to pick the rules, and my rules apply to safety.” 

She takes another long drag and again blows it into my face. I am amazed that her lipstick remains perfect throughout our exchange, and this just gets me even angrier. “What if I don’t want to?” comes Kate’s reply.

At once, I reach out and grab the cigarette out from between her lips. I manage to get to the box as well, clasped in her other hand, and throw the both of them out the window, where they unexpectedly land in a trash can. “No smoking on my watch,” I nearly growl, shocked that Edward’s way of thinking had somehow managed to rub off on me in so short a time. “Now put your seatbelt on and stop acting like a child! I think you know that includes keeping your feet on the ground…”

Kate blinks but then does what I tell her. She remains silent all the way to Charlotte and Peter’s house, and then she gets out of the car, leaving Charlie to follow after her. I smirk at her apparent fear, forcing myself not to laugh out loud at her pessimistic nature. Edward leisurely gets out of the car after Charlie and puts his arm around my waist.

“Man, I thought you would’ve hit her.”

I shake my head. “Not this time,” I reply as we walk up to the front door, where Charlie and Kate have disappeared through. We walk into what appears to be a living room and are immediately hit with the heavenly smell what I assume is dinner. Edward and I follow the smell until we reach the kitchen, my sneakers silent on the linoleum.

“Aunt Charlotte?” I say tentatively, hoping that I sound convincing enough for the role of my second cousin.

She turns around and instantly smiles.

So far, so good.

“Marie, sweetheart!” she says, and I am just able to break away from Edward so as I can cross the room to hug her back. “It is so, so good to see you! We were afraid that, after what happened here last time, that we wouldn’t see you until your wedding!”

“What did happen last time?” asked Edward, for it would have looked weird if I had asked, for I’d supposedly been there.

“You didn’t tell him?” Charlotte asks.

I shake my head. “No. I thought that you’d best be the one. After all, you’re so good at stories, Aunt Charlotte.”

Charlotte sighs. “Well, you never did like Kate, dear…”

“Do you like Kate, Aunt Charlotte?” I ask softly.

She looks around, as if to make sure that either Kate or Charlie aren’t around us, or within earshot, at the moment. “No,” she replies, “but if there’s one thing I do not condone, its violence on my property.”

Edward steps forward. “Violence?” he asks.

Charlotte nods, giving me a look. “Kate slapped her after Marie took her cigarettes away and so Marie essentially thought they should step outside and talk about it and, well…”

“What?” I ask, without thinking.

“You took her for a good five seconds or so, and then Kate punched you so hard that she broke your nose,” says a voice from behind us, and then Peter is in the room and putting his arm around Charlotte’s waist and kissing her on the cheek. “Marie, always nice to see you,” he says with a smile. “I enjoyed the first five seconds of the fight, but I just about wanted to kill Kate when she broke your nose.”

“That’s right,” says Charlotte, and then she gets a good look at me. I know that she can see that my nose is in perfect condition, as I have never broken a bone in my entire life. “Did you get it fixed, dear?”

“My nose?” I ask, going red. “Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing it off. “It was Mom and Dad, you know. I just had to look good for this one picture…”

Charlotte and Peter laugh. “Of course,” Charlotte says. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from my brother-in-law, its perfection.”

Peter gives Charlotte another kiss, gazing down at her. “Well, honey, you were pretty darn perfect when we first met.”

“And where was that?” I want to know.

“Tempus High,” Peter says, his brown eyes attempting to figure out how I’d forgotten. “You knew that, didn’t you, Marie?”

I nod quickly, letting out a nervous laugh before I can rein it in. “Of course, Uncle Peter, I just have a lot on my mind at the moment, is all.”

He nods and looks at Charlotte’s progress on the dinner. “Sure smells good in here, babe,” he says with a smile and a look full of love.

I have the urge to look away, because part of me thinks that I will never have that myself, but I don’t want to be rude either. I pretend to be staring at a calendar which is turned to April, and has pictures of The Beatles all over it, and establishes that it is April 1982. It feels weird to see something like that, but I brush it off and lean in closer to Edward, deciding to play up the love-struck teenager a bit longer.

“Edward, why doesn’t Peter show you around the house?” says Aunt Charlotte, causing me to return my eyes to them. “Marie, dear, why don’t you lay the table for me?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes, of course,” I say, following her eyes to where some plates are stacked on the counter with napkins and forks. I turn and look at Edward, unsure of what to do, but he merely leans down and kisses me, and, although I know he must be brimming with anger towards me, I find that I can detect passion in his lips as they touch mine.

I break away from him as soon as the kiss is finished and make my way over to the stacked plates. I can easily take them all into my hands and I look through the inside window-type-thing and find the dining room table just through it. I walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway before making a left and arriving in the dining room. There are some powder blue placemats on the table already which match the napkins I’m holding and there are six in all, enough for this evening. I set each plate at a place and easily complete the place setting by adding the napkins and forks.

I raise my eyes to the other half of the room, and see that it is a typical 1980’s living room, complete with an ugly-patterned couch which must be from the 70’s and an oversized television. There is a sliding glass door beyond that, which I see leads to the patio and, beyond that, the backyard. There is a round table on the patio, and I see Kate and Charlie sitting at it, under a striped umbrella, sipping iced lemonade. It is easy to see that Charlie is trying to convince Kate of something, as his hands are out in pleading sort of way. It is also very simple to figure out that Kate doesn’t want to hear it, as her arms are crossed, and her lips form a childish pout.

I see two gold candlesticks on a side table and put them in the middle of the table, along with a vase of violets. I find two medium-length light blue candles and stick them both into the sticks, and then stand back to admire the job. The last time I ate at the table for a whole meal was the Christmas when I was thirteen. All the other times Mom and Dad had taken Jasper and me skiing, or they’d been at some god forsaken medical conferences, or they’d been called to their practice for an emergency.

My mind snapped to listen to something that Aunt Charlotte was saying. She was telling me to go to the oak cabinet and get out the hot server thing… I can’t hear the word she used, but I know what she is talking about. I open the door and see the exact one that we have at our house—a pretty blue piece that is a bit heavy and can sustain a center platter. I place it by her chair—I know it is her chair based upon the family photo we have in our den—and await further instructions from her.

Edward and Peter enter the scene just as Charlotte comes in, bearing the platter full of chicken parmesan. Peter gives her an indulgent look and takes the platter from her so as Charlotte will be able to call Kate and Charlie inside. Edward and I sit together where Peter has stated we can and Kate and Charlie troop inside the house in Charlotte’s wake.

I am perplexed when Edward sits down beside me that he takes my hand very unexpectedly, in a moment of compassion. I look over at him, my eyes questioning his motive, but he is staring straight ahead. It is almost as if he senses me looking at him, however, and he squeezes my hand in a reassuring sort of way. I remain silent and nod my thanks when Charlotte serves me some chicken parmesan and wait until everyone else is served and after Charlotte gives permission to eat before I pick up my fork. It is times like this that I’m thankful that being left handed means I can still hold Edward’s hand.

“Marie?”

I look up at Peter. “Yes, Uncle Peter?” I ask.

“Why is your fork in your left hand?” he asks.

“Because I’m left handed,” I reply.

Peter blinks but doesn’t brooch the subject, although Kate, Charlie, and Charlotte are all looking at me curiously. I go silent again as I easily cut up my chicken with the side of my fork, so as not to let go of Edward’s hand. I feel a wave of comfort pass over me for the first time today, and part of me wonders just how long it will last.

The meal continues with stereotypical conversation, and a bit about how President Carter would ultimately have a faceoff later in the year with some republican candidate. I knew that, this time next year, there would be a new president—Ronald Regan—in office, but of course I had to keep my mouth crammed shut.

Maybe this family wouldn’t believe that an actor couldn’t be president either, and I forced myself not to make too many revealing comments. Personally, I thought that two terms of him was way too many, anyhow. I don’t know about you, but I am, and will always be, a registered Democrat—unofficial at this point, due to my age—and I’d kicked myself for not being born a year and a few months earlier so as I’d be able to vote for Obama.

Then it is that time of forks scraping plates that have bits of tomato sauce all over them. Kate has managed to keep her face clean, and she offers to help Charlotte clear, along with Peter and Charlie following behind her. I am about to stand and bring my plate to the kitchen as well, but realize that Edward is still holding tightly to my hand. My eyes lower to our hands, clasped like lovers, to his beautiful face.

“Edward?” I say softly.

He blinks and turns to look at me. He gives a smile like the one that Peter gave to Charlotte and picks up his napkin. He takes an ice cube from his water glass and rubs it for a moment on the napkin before dabbing said napkin gently on my face. It is so brief, yet so tender and considerate that I find myself falling for him all over again.

“Thank you,” I say in a quiet voice.

Edward nods and manages to snag my plate and take it into the kitchen himself, much to my chagrin. I pick up the napkins and find a laundry basket on the couch and plop all six of them in it. I do the same with the placemats and then I return the candlesticks to the side table and the candles to their cupboard and the vase of violets to the mantle. I walk out onto the back porch and stare out at the immaculate view before me.

“Wow,” I whisper in awe.

“It is something, isn’t it?”

I turn to see Charlie coming out to join me. I nod vigorously, and remind myself again and again that this hip guy is my dad. “Yeah, it’s totally amazing, Charlie,” I reply.

He stands beside me. “Yeah, when you were here last summer, it wasn’t even possible to see anything. That was before Dad got permission from the city to cut down the trees obliterating the sound.”

I nod again. “Yeah, I’ve always liked Puget Sound.”

“So tell me,” he says, grinning down at me, “how did you meet Edward? Did he pick you up or vice versa?”

I blush. “Um, neither really,” I admit. “He’s my best friend’s older brother,” I explain to him, and hope that’ll be the end of that.

“He’s older?” Charlie asks.

I nod. “He’s a senior,” I say steadily then. “I’m a junior. It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything like that.”

Charlie blinks. “You’re a sophomore,” he says.

I feel like disappearing forever. “I kind of took some credits after I left here last summer so now I qualify as a junior,” I explained.

Charlie nods at the explanation. “Nice,” he says.

I turn away from him and dig in my bag for my cigarettes and my lighter. I pull a tobacco stick from the box and light it quickly with my lighter. I inhale deeply and shut my eyes for a moment of pure heaven. And then everything comes crashing down.

“You’re not just a bitch, but you’re a hypocritical one, aren’t you?” says a demanding voice from behind me.

I open my eyes and turn around, seeing Kate with her arms crossed. I remove the cigarette from my mouth and tap the ash at its end that has already formed, and even though I know I should remain calm, I know that it will turn out to be extremely difficult. “Kate, just lay off me, okay? I’m not saying I’m perfect, and you sure as hell aren’t either.”

Kate advances toward me, her eyes narrowed, and her hands quickly forming into fists; she is ready to fight. “Say that to my face, Swan.”

“I believe I just did, Abernathy,” I growl back.

Kate gasps at my attitude towards her and slaps me full across the face. She gives me a smug look, like I will not do anything back to her. She turns away from me and takes out a pocket mirror. She removes some blush from her pocket and fluffs her hair in the mirror, all the while calmly applying blush. “Coward,” she mutters, checking her lipstick.

I look up towards the door, where I see Edward detecting my anger, and in the corner of my eye, I can see Charlie not knowing what to do. I say without thinking, “I’m sorry about this, you guys,” because Kate doesn’t know about my training at the hands of the person pretending to be my boyfriend. I turn back and look at Kate, who is just laughing and laughing at what a fool she’s been in this crafty situation. I unbuckle my sense of reality and find that I am speaking through my teeth. “Kate. You’d put that mirror down right now if you know what’s good for you, missy,” I growl.

She turns and looks at me. “Excuse me?”

I narrow my eyes, slipping my box of cigarettes into my pocket and tossing my bag across the deck to Edward. “You heard me.” I keep my eyes narrowed, yet I am completely focused if this snake decides to strike.

Kate shakes her head. “I…I don’t…”

I am shocked that she is acting this way, when she won the fight last time—or maybe she knows she’s about to fight someone else. “Really, are you that bad at taking orders?” I ask. I yank her mirror away from her and grab her with full force and drag her into the backyard below the patio. I slam her up against the back of the wooden fence and stick my face right into hers. “Now, you listen to me,” I say firmly to her, “you are never to treat me, or anyone else like that, ever again,” I say in a growl. “You make people think like they’re nothing because you really feel dead inside, and it has to stop right now. If you ever speak to me in that way again, I’ll do to you what you did to my nose.”

Kate suddenly finds her bad girl strength and pushes me away. “Oh, will you just lay off me, Swan?” she demands. “You’re just a hypocritical bitch who’s jealous because you’re not gorgeous like me.”

I narrow my eyes. “At least I have a mind that you could never hope or have a prayer for,” I snarl. “I’m happy to be blessed with a brilliant mind and nothing you say will ever make me want an empty headed expression like yours is twenty-four seven!”

At that, Kate goes in with her fist to break my nose. Anticipating this, I duck down from the blow and grab her by the middle. Then we are rolling around on the grass and yelling and screaming at each other. We are calling each other every name in the book—bitch, stupid head, you name it. And then, all of a sudden, I’m on top of her, and I’ve managed to get her hands behind her back. And then she is cowering, and the shoe is on the other foot.

I raise my eyes and see Charlotte looking horrified; Peter looking apprehensive; Charlie looking worried; and Edward…well, I could see behind that concerned exterior that he was pleased that my training had paid off. I lower my eyes and return my gaze to that of the cowering Kate. “I never want to see you treat me or anyone like this, ever again,” I growl at her.

She nods vigorously.

Satisfied, I get to my feet and offer her a hand. She takes it begrudgingly before running over to Charlie for comfort from the physical pain of being bested by me, and the emotional pain of grass stains all over her outfit. 

I have had all I can take about Kate’s supposed bravery, so I take my purse from Edward and say goodnight to everyone. Edward is following me back up the road to our hotel, and we walk in silence for the first few hundred steps. Finally, I take it upon myself to say something. “Did you think that I was going to do any permanent damage?” I ask him.

Edward chuckles and puts his arm around my waist, and I find I am loving the contact from his strong, capable hand. “Knowing you, anything is possible,” he replies.


	10. The Opposite of Devoid

Edward and I return to the hotel room and lie down on our respective beds. I find it odd when he reaches over the space between our beds and takes my hand again. I look over at him and see him smiling at me. I lower my eyes, finding that a blush is creeping over my skin, and that his stare sends goose bumps over me. The sun is setting behind me, and I hope that my faces’ new color becomes hidden among the setting sun’s bright and beautiful rays.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

I blink and raise my eyes to his. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘I think you’re beautiful, Bella Swan’. I think you’re crazy, but so brilliant, and you do stupid things sometimes, but everybody does.”

I sigh and sit up, pulling my hand from his and run my hands through my hair. I had forgotten about the abundance of hairspray keeping my thick locks in place, and I recoil and make a disgusted sound. “I’ve got to wash this out,” I say, shaking my head. “And then I’ve got to write a letter to a government official banning this stuff.”

“Why?” asks Edward. “The girls use it for hair; the guys use it to get high. What could be better?”

I fix him with a look and shake my head at him. “Guys use it for their hair, too, and I’m sure a girl has used it to get high.” 

I scoot off the bed and walk over to the bathroom. Instead of undressing, I merely run a brush through my hair and adjust my makeup. I scurry out of the bathroom and grab my purse, and notice that Edward has a confused expression on his face. I throw up my hand in what seems to be the national symbol for wait and hasten out of the room. I thought I heard an ice cream truck on the walk home and, sure enough, there is one just down the block from the hotel, which is currently being swarmed with children. As I near the truck, I see that it has Good Humor stamped to the side. I slip into the crowd and patiently wait my turn.

There’s a man with a small cap perched on his gray hair with an equally gray mustache, and he smiles at me. “What can I get for you, miss?” he asks.

“Um, one with almonds and one plain?” I ask with slight hesitation, removing a five dollar bill from my wallet.

The man smiles a second time and reaches behind him in what appears to be a freezer and takes out the bars. “Dollar-fifty,” he says.

I don’t blink at the price and merely take the bars and hand over the five willingly. I don’t know how difficult it is to keep a job like this, nor do I know how much these people actually make. When he gets me three dollars and fifty cents, which should have been my change, I shake my head at him. “Keep the change, sir,” I say, flashing him a smile.

“Are you sure, miss…?”

“Swan,” I reply. “It’s Marie Swan, but please keep the change.”

He blinks, lowering his eyes to the five-dollar bill, now in his hands. “Seems like you’ve turned over a new leaf, Miss Swan,” he says in an odd tone, before turning to service another customer.

I blink but merely walk patiently through the crowd, back down the block, and up the stairs to the second floor of the hotel. I am biting my lip by the time I return to the room itself and unlock the door. I see Edward sitting on the edge of the bed, obviously awaiting my return. No sooner have I locked the door back behind me and handed him the bar of frozen chocolate than are his arms around me in a protective grip.

“Edward?” I ask.

“Yes?” he whispers in a throaty voice.

I sigh, pleased to be crushed against him, but not wanting my money to go to waste. “You’re about to smash my ice cream bar,” I say softly.

“Sorry,” Edward says quickly, stepping back and pulling me after him so as I am sitting beside him on the bed. He unwraps his bar and shuts his eyes in a momentary wave of pleasure at the taste of the sweet treat.

I unwrap my bar and take a bit, chewing it slowly. “I’m surprised that you like my company, after everything,” I say quietly.

“Why?” he asks with his mouth full.

I make a face at him and take another bite of my bar and swallow it. “Because of something the ice cream man said…”

“What did he do?” Edward demands then, his hands forming a fist and tightening around his ice cream bar wrapper.

I take the wrapper from his hand and toss it into the trash can along with my wrapper. “Just something he said is all…”

“What did he say?” Edward presses.

I sigh and shake my head at him. “I don’t know. I guess something tells me that Bella had a bit of a bad reputation around here…”

“Why do you say that?” Edward wants to know.

I finish my ice cream bar and rub my temples, wanting to get theories out of my head for one evening, but knowing full well that they couldn’t be absent, decided to just lie back and accept them filtering in at all hours. “I just think that Bella might have done something…”

“Something like...?” Edward asks.

I shake my head and begin to chew absentmindedly on the ice cream bar’s stick. “I justifiably can’t answer that, to be honest with you,” I reply. “I mean, maybe there’s a reason that I never met her in person, and about how phone calls had to ‘suffice’ or something, but my parents would always get nervous whenever I mentioned her, as if she did something, I don’t know, against the law or something…”

Edward puts his hand under my chin, raising my face to his, and I find my lips parting then, a momentary gasp escaping them. He makes no move to turn away from me, nor does he release me visually or physically. We sit in silence for a few moments, merely staring at each other, content in each other’s company, and the solitude of this 1982 hotel room.

He looks as if he wants to say something, something meaningful, and then he does. “Bella, I know you know how I feel. I know you think that it doesn’t mean anything, but…”

I lower my eyes. “Edward, please. It’s nothing…”

“It’s something... Please. Just hear me out.”

“Okay,” I say at last, knowing that this could make or break anything and everything that we have between us. “Talk.”

“It’s not nothing, Bella...”

“Okay...?”

“It’s everything,” he whispers. “It’s everything to me. All of it.”

Then he is kissing me, and I’ve thrown my ice cream bar’s stick away—if by it slipping from my fingers, such a thing counts—and throw my arms around his neck. There are quick fluttering movements in my belly as this all sinks in, like a butterfly’s wings. I find myself molding to him, almost as if we are two halves of the same whole. I have never felt more complete in my life as I do then, and I do not verbally or physically object when Edward begins to unbutton my blouse.

I hear a zipper made that classic unzipping noise, and find that I am the one making it, and then his pants are down and around his ankles. He kicks them across the room and unbuttons his shirt as I shrug out of my blouse. Then I am lying beneath him in only my undergarments, mini skirt, and my shoes and padded socks. He then rolls me on top of him for a moment and I accidentally hit the radio, turning on _Africa_ by Toto.

It is almost as if the radio is encouraging us along, for Edward suddenly is in control again as he rolls back on top of me. I find that I am gripping tightly to him, almost as if my life and very existence depended on it. And then he is pulling down my mini skirt and I am still not making any moves to stop him. And then I’m naked beneath him, as he is on top of me.

 _It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had..._ , the cheap radio gently blasts out from behind me.

“It’s true,” Edward whispers, leaning down and caressing my neck with his lips. I find my eyes rolling back and shutting automatically on a wave of pleasure. My arms still do not release him, but they unhook from around his neck and travel down his back, and I find that I begin to scratch it.

“W-what’s true?” I whisper, hoping that I’m not hurting him as my fingers continue to roughly caress his back.

“It would take a lot to drag me away from you,” Edward whispers, hit hot breath sending chills all throughout my body.

I chuckle. “What? Because I’m clawing you?” I ask.

Edward sighs, and then, it happens. The thing that changes me from his sister’s best friend, from his partner in crime, from his fake girlfriend, from his trainee against bullies… There is such a long list, given the history between us. Virgin would probably be another adjective to fall into that category, describing me, of course. I just can’t believe that that word virgin doesn’t apply to me anymore. I wonder who would have thought—me and Edward having sex in 1982 in a hotel room? Well, at least there would be some confusion to society and family members as to when I actually lost my virginity. Was it 1982—the year it happened? Or was it 2013—the year that Edward and I came from?

“Hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you…” I whisper, and then I am singing, something I had vowed never to let anyone hear. “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There’s nothing a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa, I bless the rains down in Africa, I bless the rains down in Africa, I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had…”

Edward is staring at me, an awestruck look on his face. “Bella…”

“Yes?” I say, whispering again.

He smiles down at me. “You sing, too.”

I shrug. “I guess…”

And then we did not leave that hotel room until the next morning.


	11. Second Cousins

I open my eyes the following morning, and surprisingly find Edward’s arm wrapped protectively around my mutually naked body. I cannot believe that this was not a dream, and turn to look at the clock. It says nine-thirty, and I really feel like I need a shower. I quickly disengage myself from Edward’s arm, a small moan escaping from his perfect lips at the sudden movement, and grab my bag and flee to the bathroom.

This time I am sure to lock the door and get a good look at my face. I noticed that my mascara is completely smeared, as I spent much of the night crying. I loved Edward so much, but now was not the time to do something like distract myself from this mission before me. I was obviously sent back here to get my parents together, but I really thought that this screamed _Back to the Future_.

I sigh and set my bag on the counter and spin around and turn on the shower. I wait until the water is just the right temperature and step inside. I scrub my face and my body, washing off any sign of Edward. I cry a little in the shower, the sounds obliterated by the loud fan and the running water. I cover my face as the sobs grow louder, just in case, and lean up against the shower wall, not caring about the potential germs that lurk beneath the surface.

Finally I am clean and mostly cried out, so I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a large, slightly fluffy towel. I plug the hair dryer into the wall and quickly manage to make my hair dry. I dig through the bag and find a pair of blue jeans and a Edward Bowie T-shirt. I put on matching black bra and underwear and step out of the bathroom, and Edward mutely walks into the bathroom himself and shuts the door behind him.

I suppose he’s decided that we will not discuss last night, as it was totally the biggest mistake we could’ve ever made ever. I sigh and contemplate remaining in the room with some crappy T.V. show on, but I decide against it. I sling my bag on my shoulder and put my key in the jeans pocket before walking out of the room. I blush when I see that someone has put a Do Not Disturb sign on our door knob. Maybe Edward and I weren’t as quiet as we thought. I grab the sign and throw it in a momentary fit of rage into a trash can.

I keep walking down the corridor until I reach the side door and walk outside into the sunshine, which only seems to successfully dampen my thoughts even further. I keep walking onwards and eventually come to a pay phone. I remind myself that it’s the 80’s and, therefore, there should be a phone book. Those things were still pretty commonplace when I began using the telephone, and I used to call it ‘The dictionary with numbers’ due to the fact that everyone seemed to alphabetize things.

I grab the telephone book—which is not locked into place, oddly—and begin thumbing my way through it. It is also odd that I only encounter about half a dozen ‘Swan’s’ in the phone book. I shrug it off and discover the ones that I am looking for: Sue and Harry Swan, a.k.a. Marie’s mother and father. I nibble at my lip and hastily dial the number. It rings three times before someone picks up. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, is Marie there?” I ask. 

“Speaking,” says the voice, immediately suspicious. 

“Marie… I need to talk to you,” I say.

“Who are you?” she wants to know. “If you’re FBI, CIA, DOJ, or something like that, I’m totally innocent! Leave me alone!”

“I’m not FBI!” I cry. “I’m not CIA either, or DOJ! I’m only sixteen!”

“Oh,” she says, clearly about to calm down. “Then who are you?” she asks, her voice skeptical at the stranger on the other end of the telephone. “What could you possibly want with someone like me? What’s your name, anyway?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“What do you mean?” she asks. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Because you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I reply.


	12. A New Place to Stay

Marie agrees to meet me at her house, because, oddly, she trusts me. She lives in an area called University Park, and attends the rival high school located near there, reportedly called Similiter High School. She gives me the quickest directions, and I hop on a bus, yet I don’t inform Edward where I’m going. I memorize that address and twenty minutes later, I am knocking on her front door.

She opens it and nearly slips on her welcome mat, and I find that I almost fall down the flight of stairs behind me. We could be sisters; but twins would be the more proper term. She finally seems to believe the story I told her on the phone—that we needed to meet pronto. I thank her as she steps back to let me in.

“Where are your parents?” I ask.

“Who knows?” she shoots back. “They’re away, again.”

“Do you see a lot of them?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Not really. You?”

I shake my head at her, wondering how I could manage to spin this. “No. I haven’t seen my parents in at least a…well, I did see them yesterday…”

Marie makes a face. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m not from here.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, taking a beer from the kitchen fridge and getting the bottle off by doing that slight knocking thing on the side of the counter. I notice there are a few scratches along with the new one she has just made now. “Do you want one?”

I shake my head. “No.” I watch her shrug as she takes a swig of beer. “I am from Seattle…but not this century…”

And then she is looking at me. “What do you mean?”

I sigh and go digging in my bag. I have managed to retrieve the necklace from the gutter—as it was broken, apparently—and my driver’s license, as another means of proof. “My means of transportation in getting here, and my driver’s license,” I clarify to her before I hand them over to her for inspection.

Marie makes a face before she looks at my license, which doesn’t expire until my twenty-first birthday, in November 2017. Her eyebrows knit together in a moment of confusion and then she takes a good look at my necklace. Her eyes rise to mine, wide and fearful. “Where did you get this?”

“You,” I reply. “You gave it to me for Christmas the year I was fourteen. I’ve never met you until now, though. Why is that, Marie?” I ask, and her dark eyes look fearful. “Why do my parents want to keep you away from me?”

“Probably because, by 2013, I’ll be in prison for something horrible,” she replies in a strange voice.

“Murder,” I whisper, in a questioning tone.

“Never,” Marie replies, fingering the broken necklace. “I have one of these as well, so maybe I gave it to you when I no longer had use for it.”

“But, if you’re in prison, and it grants wishes, wouldn’t it be of use to you?” I ask, thinking very logically at this point.

Marie smiles. “It cannot grant the impossible.”

“Yesterday I thought time travel was impossible…”

Then there is a burst of something behind me and Edward comes charging through the living room and into the kitchen. “Bella!”

“What the hell?!” Marie demands.

“Jesus, Edward!” I cry out at the exact same moment.

“I—” Then he is looking from me to her, a look of utter confusion locked onto his face, and he is completely flabbergasted—so much so that he feels that he ultimately has to mention the unthinkable. “Okay…which one of you did I have sex with last night?”

“Edward!” I cry.

“Oh, here we go…” Marie says.

Then Edward gives me a closer look and nods. “I thought it was you. You have that freckle near your jawline. This...whoever this is,” he points to my second cousin in an awkward fashion, “doesn’t have one.”

“Not to mention this,” Marie says bitterly, rubbing the bridge of her nose, where a slight bump indicates it’s been broken. “Have to thank a certain Kate Abernathy for that one…”

I blush that Edward would notice something like a freckle on my jawline. I keep my eyes averted from his face, as he’s already divulged a deep dark secret that I’d thought we weren’t even going to discuss ever. I consider last night deeply in my mind, and come to the simple conclusion that it was a mistake. Then he is saying something to me now, and I raise my eyes to his, my mascara running down my face and my knees trembling.

“Bella, what’s the matter with you?” he demands.

I choke on a sob. How the hell can he be so insensitive after last night of being so tender towards me?! I open my mouth to answer, but I feel something threatening to creep up my throat. I turn away from him and dash outside the back door—a sliding glass one like the one at Charlie’s place—and dash onto the grassy area beyond the patio, where I am sick in a bed of yellow tulips. The vomit doesn’t stop, and soon I’ve fallen down onto my knees, crying and vomiting into the normally pretty flowers.

Then I feel something on my left shoulder and turn around. I see Marie standing there, rubbing my back with one hand and considerately offering me a towel, slightly damp with cool water, in the other. She gives me an understanding smile and gets onto her knees, and begins dabbing at my face. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any on those clothes,” she says with a chuckle. “Have you had a lot of practice with your aim or something?”

I shake my head and take the towel from her. “Where’s Edward?” I find myself asking my doppelganger, knowing that—thought I may hate him right now—I must eventually bring him home with me.

“He’s inside,” Marie replies. “Is it really that obvious?” she asks.

“What?” I ask, finishing cleaning my face. “That I’m totally and completely madly in love with the guy?”

Marie blinks and shakes her head. “No. That he’s in love with you.” Marie regards my expression and sighs. “Anyone would be upset if someone discussed their sex life…”

“That was my first time,” I say softly. “Last night…”

She raises her eyebrows. “Well, no wonder you were upset!” she says, considerately helping me to my feet and catching me when I stumble ever so slightly. “But seriously, you’ve got to get in there and tell him about how you feel.”

I sigh. “It’s more complicated than that…”

“Why?” asks Marie.

“I’m best friends with his sister, Alice, and there’s this girl Rosalie Hale that he seems to be really into, and…”

She nods slowly. “Well, then the least you can do is to tell him that, based on his behavior, he can’t expect any more sex—”

I look at her, cutting her off momentarily.

She sighs. “Are you really that much of a priss?”

I scoff then, rolling my shoulders. “Well, I mean, I _have_ been pretending to be you for the past day… Or did I not mention that?” I ask.

Marie blinks. “You’ve been pretending to me?!” she demands. “God, now all of them will think I’m some sort of saint!”

“Not after winning against Kate,” I mutter.

She stops short, just outside the back door, her jaw flapping open. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute here, Swan. You took Kate?!”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Did you punch that little bitch and break her perfect face?”

“No,” I admit. “But I did hold her down. And Peter was weirded out about my not broken nose and the fact that I’m left handed.”

Marie shakes her head. “Well, I know I would be weirded out too. And why didn’t you destroy Kate when you had the chance?”

“Because I don’t want to kill anyone and get the electric chair,” I mutter, leaning against the door frame.

“You’re underage, and a girl,” Marie assures me. “There have only been a couple of executions of people who committed crimes at sixteen and below, so you’d have two years on Death Row, for starters. And secondly, the other side would have to prove it was capital murder, or first-degree murder, depending on the circumstances that the crime was committed in. Those two things make you more eligible for the death penalty, if I remember correctly. And lastly, there’s just lethal injection here…”

“What about hanging?” I ask.

“Well…”

“They bring it back,” I tell her quietly.

Marie’s hands go to her neck and she shudders. “Hell no,” she whispers, shaking her head, but she keeps trembling.

I sigh and cross the small space and find myself putting my arms around her, in a sort of friendly hug. “You know, I wish you don’t do whatever it is you ended up doing. You would have been a pretty cool member of the family.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, do you have good grades?” I ask.

“B’s and C’s mostly,” she says. “I do have an A in history…”

“Well, get rid of those C’s and replace them with B’s,” I tell her. “Work your butt off the rest of high school, and trust me, you’ll pass.”

She pulls back from me. “You really think so?”

I nod. “I know so. Now, do you know what you want to do after high school? I know it can be freaky to think about, but it is always good to have a plan for when you’re done.”

She shakes her head. “No plan,” she replies.

“I think you’d make one hell of a good lawyer,” I reply. “You know so much of the practical information as it is. I’ll bet if you work really hard in high school, get out of trouble, you could get a scholarship to some really good school and go places.”

“A lawyer?” she breathes. Her eyes widened then and she grins. “I’d love to see the look on my parent’s faces when—”

Then there is a door opening and then a gasp of shock.

“Marie!” screams a hysterical woman’s voice.

“Oh, no,” Marie says.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she assures me.

We troop from outside and notice that Sue has seen Edward, and that Harry has a loaded shotgun just in case. We both sigh in unison.

“Dad, put the gun down,” Marie was saying. “I’m safe. But you’ve got to put the gun down right now.”

Harry acquiesces and that’s when Marie and I step into the living room. Harry and Sue gasp and cling to each other.

“Which one of you is—?!”

“Dad, come on,” Marie says, walking casually away from me. “Don’t you know your own daughter anymore?”

My father’s aunt shudders. “If you’re really our Marie, and that character is Edward, then who is that, if you please?” demands Sue.

“Hello, Sue,” I say in a reserved tone. “My appearance is nearly identical to Marie’s, and she and I do bear the same surname, and I am part of your family, but Edward and I are not from here, I’m afraid.”

“Not from here?!” commands Harry haughtily. “What?! Are they some form of alien pod people or something?!”

“Harry, please,” I say, and I’m surprised to discover that I somehow have the ability to sound like an authoritative person as well. “Can I trust you two with the information that I’ve given your daughter?”

“Mom?” asks Marie. “Dad? Bella just asked you a question.”

“Yes,” says Sue, clearly answering for both of them. “So, I take it then that your name is Bella Swan? And you say we’re related?”

I nod. “Yes. I’m Bella Swan, only daughter and youngest child of Charlie Swan and Renee Higginbotham. I was born on November 19, 1996. I used a necklace, which was a gift from your daughter, as a means of time travel, and travelled from April of 2013 to here, April of 1982, with Edward. His name is Edward Cullen and he’s the oldest child and first son of Carlisle Cullen and Esme Platt. Does that answer your question?”

Sue has, by this time, sunk completely into an armchair. She is nodding, so as we all know she comprehended the situation, though she looks completely shocked. Marie goes to her and puts her arms around her, and Sue pats her arm in an absentminded sort of way. “So, that would make you my…?”

“Great-niece,” I reply, deliberately softening my voice. “I know this must be difficult for the both of you. But another complex thing about this situation is the fact that Edward and I need to get home.”

“Hold up,” Edward says then, throwing up both hands and gets up and crosses the room to stand with me. “I’m not one to stir the crap, but we’ve got to consider this, Bella. I mean…your parents aren’t exactly a couple right now, you know. If we return to the present, there could be, I don’t know, another 9/11 or some other kind of disaster!”

I gasp, knowing that it was never good to inform people from the past about future events, just in case. “Edward!” I cry out.

“What’s 9/11?” Harry asks reluctantly.

I sighed, knowing that we had to come clean about this one. “A horrible, horrible thing, let’s just leave it at that,” I say quietly, hoping that they’ll accept that as an answer, and yet I know that I’d want a fuller explanation than just some vague one. “Just make sure not to be on any airplanes during that time, and for god sakes, stay away from New York for the whole month of September 2001, just to be safe,” I tell them, shooting Edward a death glare for potentially ruining everything.

Harry takes out a notepad and quickly writes down the information.

“And, Harry, don’t tell anyone,” I say, lightly punching Edward in the stomach for good measure when they’re not looking. “I’ll admit he’s not the quietest guy in the world, but he’s not totally horrible. And he is right about the fact that my parents aren’t together. I need to find a way to get them together without blowing my cover.”

“Cover?!” Sue demands. “What cover?!”

I sigh. “I’ve been sort of pretending to be Marie,” I admit.

“Convincingly?” asks Harry. “We don’t want any more Kate incidents…”

“I’ve had some interaction with Kate,” I say quietly, sinking down and onto the couch. “We did have a bit of an altercation last night…”

Harry sighs. “Who won?”

“I did,” I reply.

“Physically?” squawks Sue.

“It was physical defense,” Edward rushes in, gazing down at me in admiration, despite my just punching him in the stomach. “She was brilliant, and Kate was insulting, and Bella was merely defending herself. She ended the fight by telling Kate not to insult anyone ever again…she was pinning her down while she said it, but it was only to get Kate to listen.”

“Did either of you break anything that day?” asks Sue.

 _Only my heart_ , I think, and I see Bella regarding me with a sympathetic expression. “No, not that I know of,” I say quietly, but knowing that I had to come clean. I lift up my shirt and reveal the massive black and blue mark on my side, along with the cut on my right that Kate made with her ring. “Just a minor tear there and minor bleeding, and various other areas of bruising,” I say quietly, lowering my shirt. 

“Why didn’t I see those last night?” Edward asks.

My face heats as Marie rolls her eyes and Sue and Harry give each other concerned looks while I grit my teeth and attempt not to scream. “Maybe because you were only thinking of one thing,” I snap back at him.

“It’s not like you were telling me to stop at any point,” Edward growls back, getting to his chauvinist pig feet.

I give him a look like he’s got six heads instead of one. “And it’s not like you gave me an opportunity to do any talking,” I cry out, standing up as well.

“Okay!” Marie cries, scurrying in between us. “That’s enough of that. Where have you two been staying?”

“The Best Western Plus near Charlie’s,” I answer, never taking my eyes away from Edward, but am pleased that my voice never wavers.

“Well, Edward can sleep in the guest bedroom and Marie, you may offer your erm, second cousin the other bed in your room,” Harry says.

“Fine,” Edward says, glaring at me.

“Fine,” I say, glaring right back.


	13. The Plan

After Marie drives us to the hotel to grab Edward’s things, we pay the bill and stop to get some burgers from McDonald’s. I will admit that Edward and I share a laugh at the sign. It doesn’t really give a clear depiction over how many people have been served, but it does advertise something else. It is announcing that chicken nuggets are now on the menu.

We go inside, and I walk right up to the counter. I order a cheeseburger with ketchup, mustard, and pickles; medium fries; a chocolate milkshake; and a hot fudge sundae. Marie doesn’t bat an eye and orders the same thing, along with Edward, making the grand total eleven dollars and change. I pick a round table in the back for us so as we can talk about anything and everything without drawing too much suspicion.

We chew our burgers slowly, yet Marie gives us strange looks when we remove the tops off our milkshakes and begin dipping our fries. We urge her to try it, although she is unconvinced that the salt to sweet ratio would be any good. I threaten to hold her down while Edward feeds it to her like a baby. Finally, Marie tries it of her own accord and ends up thoroughly enjoys the experience as a whole.

We all finish in about twenty minutes before disposing of our trash and departing from the restaurant, if you could really call it that. Marie quickly reminds us how lucky we are that she never goes to McDonald’s, nor does she know anyone who works there. We get back to her car and make off with stomachs full of unnecessary trans-fats and other bad products and head back to the University Park area, back to Marie’s house.

We enter the house, my bag on my arm and Edward’s backpack slung over his shoulder. Sue announces that she and Harry will be preparing a steak dinner in our honor, before leaving to go to the store. Marie shows Edward the guest bedroom and leaves him to get settled while I follow her down the hall and into her lavish bedroom. She points to the other bed—pretty much identical to hers—and gestures for me to drop my stuff.

I do as I am told and lie on my back on the bed. My limbs pop a bit as I stretch out on the full-sized mattress and I feel at ease. I turn and look at Marie, and find her staring at me. “What?” I ask, although I can tell by her eyes, identical to mine, what she is thinking.

She sighs. “I just can’t get over it. Why do you look so much like me?”

I shrug. “Maybe because we’re related?” I ask.

She nods slowly. “I know that,” she replies, a little defensively, and moves so as she is sitting with her legs crossed. “So, we’ve got to make a plan.”

“Yes,” I agree. “Operation part one—get Charlie to dump Kate.”

“Fantastic idea!” Edward says from the doorway, sounding enthused as one can be. He enters the vicinity and proceeds to plop himself down into a bean bag chair. “I do have an idea, but it may be stretching things a bit.”

“What?” I demand.

“I saw a sign for the Spring Fling at Tempus,” he says quietly. “So, what I was thinking is, you and I go there together, since the real Marie is supposed to be close to the other Swan household anyhow. Then, you ask Charlie for a dance once we’re there, and then I’ll be obligated to take Kate out onto the floor. You saw how she was checking me out all during yesterday. Clearly, she finds me attractive.”

I nod. “Yes,” I reply, trying my best to keep the tightness from my voice. “She does clearly find you attractive.”

“I’ll tell her that I plan on breaking up with you for her or some variation of that, because she’s charmed me or something like that.” He turns then to Marie. “Tell me, has she ever said something to you like, I don’t know, ‘prove it’?”

Marie nods. “Many times,” she replies.

“Excellent,” Edward says. “So, I’ll drag her into the hallway and somewhere private and make out with her. Then, you, Bella, will suddenly notice that we’re gone and you’ll unexpectedly fall into our path.”

“Well, that solves them breaking up,” I say softly. “But, Edward, what about my mother? How will Charlie go from Kate to her in time for us to manage to get back to a present where I exist?”

Edward shrugs.

I sighed. “Look, if there’s one thing my mother always was, it was trustworthy. I propose that if you hang out with Charlie and keep him occupied, you know, have some male bonding time with him. Maybe you can get him to realize that there is a life outside of Kate. Bond with him in band class or something…”

Edward grins. “Good thinking,” he says.

“And while that’s happening, I can find out Renee’s schedule and get her to change her wardrobe and hair. This way, she’ll be all pretty for the dance! And we can get them to bond during band class!” I cry, clapping my hands together at my thinking. “Tell me, how was my mother’s voice?”

Marie looks away from me.

Edward sighs. “She’s…not horrible,” he says at last.

“She’s just no Joan Jett,” replies Marie.

“Can somebody please tell me who this Joan Jett is?” I cry out then, annoyed. “I mean…I’ve got all of these shirts of hers, and I only just figured out who Edward Bowie is. Could I have a little insight here, please?”

Marie sighs. She pulls out a cassette player and some cassette tapes from under her bed, which look like they are in mint condition. “CD’s only just came out,” she says to our perplexed faces at this foreign music type. “But I’m sure CD’s have got to be the biggest thing in music in 2013, am I right?” she asks, popping open the cassette player and slipping in a white cassette tape, as Edward and I smirk at one another. The words Joan Jett are stamped to the top, while _I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll_ is stamped to the bottom.

The room is then filled with a guitar slashing the quiet. Then the voice of what I would describe as an angel gone punk filled my ears. “I saw him dancing there by the record machine; I knew he must have been about seventeen…” I almost can’t breathe; it’s such a wonderful voice, and the notion that I’d never let it fill my ears haunts me. I cannot speak until it’s over, and then I am staring open-mouthed at Marie.

“It’s number one on the Billboard Hot 100,” Marie says to my surprised face with a grin, clearly amused at my shock. “Could you sing like her?” she asks.

“Maybe,” I say softly. “If I improve her wardrobe, introduce her to makeup, fix her hair, teach her to sing, and get rid of those god-awful glasses, do you think she’d have a shot at Charlie by the time Spring Fling rolls around?”

“Maybe,” Marie says. “Edward? What do you think?”

“Two weeks,” he says.

“Two weeks…?” Marie asks.

“What?” I comes my own question.

“You’d have two weeks, because that’s when Spring Fling is. Well, actually, thirteen days, because Spring Fling is on a Friday, so…”

He is silenced by Marie and me hitting him with pillows.


	14. The Kidnapping

Marie and I planned to corner Renee in an alley near where she volunteered at this animal shelter the following afternoon. I don’t know how Marie knew this information, but I guess you need to get your kicks off somehow in the early 1980’s. Marie drove right near the place and parked just beyond the other side of the alley that it’s next to. We see Renee coming out of the place and manage to grab her without anyone seeing us and haul her into the leather back seat of Marie’s classic car.

Renee was, naturally, screaming her head off as Marie managed to throw a tarp over her head and tie her hands together, all the while screaming at me to drive, drive, drive. She has tossed me her keys and I slammed shut the driver’s door and locked it—along with all the other ones for good measure—and speed off. The plan is to get Renee to Marie’s house, calm her down, explain as much of the situation as we can, and then do some shopping.

My heart is racing as I slam on the gas and hastily manage to get us out of that godforsaken, yet conveniently-placed, alley. I am careful to drive only a mile or two over the limit, so that we save time getting back to Marie’s house, but not get pulled over and fined in the process. It would be doubly bad if we were pulled over, because then I would have to present my I.D., and the cop would more than likely would bat an eye at the 2017 expiration date. Although I could hand over Marie’s I.D. as well…

I decided to put it out of my mind as we got closer and closer to the freeway. I managed to get from thirty-seven miles per hour to forty on the bridge over the freeway without incident and get across quickly. We soon were flying down the street and soon arrived at Roosevelt Way, making a left at the traffic light and going straight until Fifteenth Avenue, before making a sharp right turn. We went on a second concrete bridge over a wooded area before entering a wide intersection and making a left.

We were then in University Park area proper and I could still hear Marie struggling with Renee in the back seat. I bit my lip to stop myself from ordering silence from the two of them as we went up a hill and into the two car garage. I shut the garage behind me and managed to get out of the car and open the side door and holler for Edward to heave Renee into the house. He came immediately and was going on and on about how cold Meryl Streep’s performance was in _Kramer vs. Kramer_.

I ignored him, because I liked Meryl Streep very much and it made me ill to hear my own mother screaming for mercy. Maybe she thought that Edward was the Green River Killer or something, but I knew full well that Gary Ridgway would not begin killing until four months from now—according to evidence brought forth by police.

I kept my mouth shut and walked into the house and into the living room, feeling very glad that both Bella’s father was at his ad agency job and that Marie’s mother was at the small candle shop that they owned. I sat in a chair and put my head between my knees and found that I began hyperventilating; I’d been diagnosed with asthma at the age of seven, and had not had an attack in quite some time. The fact that I’d also been diagnosed with anxiety at twelve didn’t help much either.

Edward had disposed of my mother in Marie’s bedroom, and it became apparent that they had decided between them to allow Marie to have the first crack at her when it came to reasoning. I heard him calling for me, but I couldn’t call out to him. I could only sit on that massive chair and rock back and forth and attempt to keep breathing.

“Ed…ward!” I managed to get out. “Help… Help me, I need you!”

And then he came running, and he knew just what to do. He pulled my head up and stared into my eyes and told me to breathe as he rubbed my shoulders. I know what you’re thinking—you don’t even have to say it. Right, just put the guy that you’re madly in love with in front of you, and he tells you to breathe, and you’re bound to listen, right? Either everything will be all right and you’ll breathe, or you’ll have a heart attack at how drop dead gorgeous he is and totally pass out. Thankfully, I’m not only some lovesick teenager—I am also sarcastic and brilliant—and I was able to calm down.

“Where’s Renee?” I whispered.

“With Marie,” he replied. “She’s okay, just a little shaken is all.”

I nod and slowly get to my feet, stumbling a bit.

“Careful!” Edward cries out.

I nodded. “Thanks,” I reply, and proceed down the hallway. I feel him taking my hand and I go to follow him, but walk too fast and slip a little. He catches me, and we are staring into each other’s eyes, and I feel as much longing in mine as I can see in his. I know then that he wants to kiss me, but Marie hollers from down the hall that we’d better join her and quick. Edward looks disappointed that we must continue this later, but he merely takes me by the hand again and we walk the rest of the way to Marie’s bedroom.

“Hi, Renee,” he says in a kind voice.

“Hi,” she says shortly. She is sitting on my bed, knees to her chest, arms curled around her ankles. Her dark eyes are looking frantically around the bedroom, and she is visibly shaking, so much so that she has to constantly continue to push her glasses into place.

“Renee?” I say, and it is at my voice that she looks at me. “I’m Bella. Do you remember meeting me the other day before band?”

Renee shakes her head when she sees me, and is looking from me to Marie, obviously confused out of her mind. “I knew I met you,” she says, pointing to me, “but is that your twin sister or something?”

“Not exactly,” Marie says carefully, speaking for the first time since Edward and I have entered her bedroom. “But Bella and I do have the same surname. You see, she was only pretending to be me for protection.”

“If you’re not Charlie’s cousin Marie, then who the hell are you supposed to be?” Renee demands in a frightened tone. “What I really mean is, who the hell are you and what do you want with me?!”

I hesitate for a moment before ultimately deciding to tell her the truth. “My name is Bella Swan, and I’m your daughter, Renee,” I say quietly. We weren’t sure whether or not to reveal this information to Renee, but Marie said that she was fairly trustworthy. “I was born on November 19, 1996 and I am your only natural child and daughter.”

Renee is trembling again at my rather sudden declaration to her. “You’re my daughter?” she whispers. “But… How is this possible? If you’re my daughter, but your birthday isn’t for another fourteen or so years…”

“I time travelled, Renee,” I say quietly. I reach into my pocket then, and remove the broken necklace. “You gave this to me—well, technically Marie did but you kept us from contact. You gave me this necklace for Christmas when I was younger, when I was fourteen.”

She is still confused. “Who is your father?”

“Charlie,” I reply.

“I marry Charlie?!” she cried, reddening.

I nod. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

She shakes her head. “Well, no... He and I have been friends for a long time, but he never seemed to notice me that way. I guess I’ve always loved him.” She gives me an indulgent smile and cups my chin as I sit down beside her on my bed. “Well, I mean, look at you. I bet you have guys knocking down your bedroom door and I’m stopping them, right?”

I shake my head. “Not exactly, Renee.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

I shrug then, letting out a nervous laugh. “I don’t date, really. And you and D—Charlie are always at the practice and stuff.”

“I’m a doctor?” she asks.

I nod again. “Yes.”

She shakes her head. “But why don’t you date?”

I feel Edward behind me, staring at my back as I lower my eyes. “Let’s just say that I know how you feel, Renee.”

Renee gives me an understanding look, and looks at Edward, who is chatting with Marie across the room. “Edward?” she asks.

I give her a small smile. “Yes.”

“Marie said his last name is Cullen?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

“And is he the son of Carlisle Cullen and Esme Platt?” she asks, a rare intelligence lurking behind her shining eyes.

I blink, amazed. “Yes. What’s with all these high school sweethearts getting together?” I ask out loud.

Renee shrugs. “Well, your father and I are hardly—according to my better knowledge—high school sweethearts.”

I sigh. “Well, me and Jasper will never be, unless you and Charlie—”

“Who’s Jasper?” she asks.

I bit my lip, fearful of letting her know too much. “Jasper is a little boy from France that you and Charlie adopt on your second honeymoon.”

“Why did we only have you?”

I shrugged at her. “I was an unexpected surprise. You guys thought that you couldn’t have kids, so you adopted Jasper, and when he was almost three, you got pregnant with me. I was always your golden girl—until I turned five and my hair turned this color. I am so glad that I wasn’t a blonde…”

“Why?” asks Renee.

I guess they weren’t familiar with those particular stereotypes in ‘82, I think to myself. “It’s not important,” I say.

Renee sighs. “Well, I’ve got to make sure you’re born.”

“But, you barely know me,” I protest.

Renee smiles and puts her hands on my shoulders. “You’re my daughter. I should have seen it from the moment I saw you on Friday. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt oddly protective towards you, and I didn’t know why. Now I do know, and I’ve got to get with your father so as we can have many adventures together.”

“One question,” I say.

“Yes?”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I ask.

“But…you told me I was a doctor…”

“Are your parents insisting on it?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. They want me to do something practical.”

“And what do you want to do?”

She smiles. “Honestly?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I’ve always wanted to have a band and be a singer.”

“Edward’s younger sister, Alice, and I are planning on forming a band,” I say softly, recalling the conversation.

“Jeez, how many kids do they have?” demands Renee.

I shake my head. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Marie,” Renee says, turning to her.

Marie looks over at her. “Yes?”

“What’s the plan?” she asks.

“The plan?” asks Marie.

Renee rolls her eyes. “Oh, you know…”

“Not really…”

She grits her teeth. “Marie Helen Swan, don’t play this game with me.”

Marie grins. “What game? I’m not playing a game.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I am not! Now, what plan?”

“Operation, if you will, Renee,” I say, grinning at her.

She sighs. “Not funny…”

“What isn’t funny?” Edward wants to know.

Renee sighs. “Operation—get me into Charlie Swan’s pants sometime in the future,” she says, exasperated.


	15. Shopping Spree & Kate Run-In

I had to keep reminding myself that the Green River Killer wouldn’t strike at the Northgate Mall for another year and five months. We headed to The Bon Marche, which made Edward and me chuckle. Considering that we hadn’t stepped in here since it’s closing in eight years previously, there was more than one definite feeling of déjà vu.

Marie was constantly trailing Renee to assist her with what clothes she should and shouldn’t wear to attract Charlie. We still had to get her hair and makeup done as well as well as to get her new shoes. Renee told us that her glasses were for reading, but she didn’t really need them, so contacts weren’t needed here, thankfully. We pretty much had to replace everything, and I sent Edward away when I figured out that she would need more undergarments as well. It was considerate of me, considering that we’d slept together, that I didn’t want him to be all up in my mother’s business either.

Renee was especially embarrassed when the woman came in to measure her, but she soon got over it and allowed her to do her job. I was surprised that she had never heard of a push-up bra before! My mother was soon outfitted in wonderful under attire and we were soon ready to move to skirts and better blue jeans—no bell-bottoms. Soon we were onto blouses and other kinds of shirts that were a bit on the revealing side.

Soon we were at the makeup counter and perfume station and we got her everything she needed—or, rather, everything the sales woman told her to buy for herself. I was also surprised that I only had a slight dent in my emergency finances so I offered to take out everyone for lunch at the Red Robin near University Bridge, as it was sort of near Marie’s house.

It took a rather long moment for Edward and me not to gawk at the absence of Red, the Red Robin mascot. After we got our table, Renee and Edward excused themselves to go to the bathroom, and Marie offered to show them where it was. A waiter came by and asked me if everything was all right and brought me my water with that classic lemon twist.

I sighed. “Have you ever thought about a mascot?” I asked him.

He blinks. “A mascot for what?” he asks. 

“The restaurant,” I say, gesturing around me.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

I look at his name-tag, which says Sam. “Sam, I think you should tell your manager about my rather brilliant idea. I mean, to me, hamburgers depict family, and family is togetherness, and you can’t be completely together without your children, can you, Sam?”

“No, you’re right.”

“So, tell your manager to make the mascot a robin.”

“A robin?” he asks, nodding half committedly.

“A robin,” I tell him.

“What should I tell him to call the robin?” he asks.

I see everyone coming back, so I quickly say, “Red,” and then order myself an apple juice and scoot into the booth a bit so as Edward can take his seat beside me again.

Sam takes down the other drinks for Edward, Marie and Renee—a coke, a cherry coke, and a lemonade, respectively. He also asks if we are ready for our meal, and we each order burgers and fries. We wait for the meal, making casual conversation throughout, until the door opens behind us and I see Marie stiffening and Renee making a wide-eyed expression.

I know exactly what’s happening. “Charlie?” I hiss.

“And Kate,” replies Bella.

“Switch places with me,” I order Marie. “I’ll get under the table and Edward, hide me with your legs,” I say before I can stop myself, and duck under the table with Bella and make myself into a ball and Marie sits beside Edward.

“Marie!” I hear Charlie call.

“Charlie!” cries Marie, in a voice identical to mine. She is able to get up around Edward to hug him without exposing me. “How have you been? And Kate, I do hope that there aren’t any hard feelings.”

I don’t sound like that. _OW!_ I think, as Edward has kicked me. I give him a poke, but know full well that he was saying that I do sound like that.

“So, out on a lunch date?” asks Kate in a voice like ice.

“Yes, with Edward and Renee.”

“Well, good job choosing your friends,” Kate chuckles. “At this rate, Edward wouldn’t pick you over Renee. In fact, given his being so gorgeous and you, well, not, I’m surprised he even picked you at all.”

“Watch it, Kate,” Edward and Charlie say at the same time.

“Excuse me?” she demands.

I want to hit her, to claw her eyes out, but I can’t move.

“I’m right here, Kate,” says Renee, speaking for the first time. “I don’t like it when people say rude things to me. I think it would be best if you apologized, because I haven’t done anything wrong here.”

 _Not yet_ , I think to myself. Stealing someone’s boyfriend does indeed classify as wrong, but I knew that if Renee wasn’t successful in “stealing” Charlie from Kate permanently, then I would cease to exist...

“I shall do no such thing.”

“And why is that?” Renee asks.

“Because you’re hideous,” Kate says simply. “Come on, Charlie, there’s an open table. Let’s grab it now.”

“Kate…”

“What now?” she demands, her voice impatient. “You’re not going to make me to apologize to that thing, are you?”

“I’m warning you, Kate,” Marie growled.

“Warning me?” she asks. “Isn’t that the same as a threat? You wouldn’t want me to break your nose again, would you?”

I am about to lunge forward, but Edward blocks me with his powerful legs. He really can read me like a book.

“No, but you don’t want to walk out of here with a broken neck, now would you, Kate?” asks Marie in a sugary sweet voice.

Kate goes white and mutely crosses the restaurant to the open table. She sits down and begins to talk cordially to the waiter.

“For the record, I like your new look, Renee,” Charlie tells her with a small, sincere smile before going to the table with Kate.


	16. Romeo & Juliet

I go to school with Renee the following day, and nobody seems to mind that I am there with her at all. She shows me her schedule, and I am surprised that there are eight periods instead of the standard six. She is taking Physics, Advanced Government, Advanced Calculus, European Literature, Home Economics, Swimming, Painting, and Band. She has lunch between European Literature and Home Economics, right in the middle of the day.

I am immensely bored for the first hour or so of the day. I try to keep my head up while Mr. Banner is speaking. He tries to include me in the lecture, but knows full well that science of any kind isn’t my forte. I may be bored, but it is not because I don’t know the information. In fact, I took a physics course one summer just for fun. I am allowed to partake in the quiz that day, and even Mr. Banner is surprised when I answer every question correctly.

By Advanced Government with Mr. Mason, I am attempting to wrap my head around when he says President Carter that he is referring to the current president in office. It is very challenging, but the work itself is surprisingly easy to absorb. He asks us to make a prediction for the government in the next century, and I raise my hand.

“Yes, Marie?” he asks. “You are our guest from Simitler?” he asks, giving the class an opportunity to laugh at my expense.

“We will have an African American president in office on January 20…2009,” I say, in an effort to show the class that I must consider the year.

“An African American President of the United States?” asks Mr. Mason, looking as if I am totally and completely crazy.

“And why not?” I ask. “Just because they may be a different race than you or me, does not mean that they aren’t capable of running the country.”

He bristles at that. “Are you trying to imply that I may have a problem with a race other than that of Caucasian, Miss Swan?”

I fix him with my most innocuous look. “Well, Mr. Mason, I am merely taking my opinion from your reaction. I can’t help it if you seemed to doubt me, nor that you seemed a bit offended at the prospect.”

“I was not offended.”

“Then pardon me for being wrong,” I say resolutely. “We are only human, after all. We are allowed to make mistakes.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t give you detention or Saturday school,” Renee hisses at me as we walk down the hall after class.

“They have that?” I ask, like she’s full of crap.

“Yes. Don’t they still have it in 2013?”

“No,” I say, smirking at her. “All the extra funding they manage to get is going into the damn sports department. They’ve even resolved to budget so more money is set aside for the teams by cutting things like drama and music.”

Renee makes a shocked face as we walk into her Advanced Calculus class, with the name Mr. Varner printed on the door. The next hour is uneventful, with me getting a B on the quiz I am allowed to take, without ever taking a calculus class in my life. Mr. Varner asks me if I’ve ever taken it before, and she smiles when he hands me back my paper.

The topic of discussion in European Literature in something so stereotypical I want to laugh. It is Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_ , and Charlie just so happens to be there, so naturally Edward is as well. For whatever reason, Mr. Berty—so is so obviously gay that I’m concerned for his well-being—tells Charlie and Renee to do the balcony scene and for me and Edward to do it, too, and then for the class to critique, rate, and compare the performances.

We are expected to perform it cold, so as we’ll be able to pretend we’re thinking of this magic up on the spot. Mr. Berty puts up a table to act like a balcony, and for Renee and me to sit upon a stool behind it. As for the climbing, he just asks Charlie and Edward to mime it. I think they should be more than capable to do that.

“Go!” urges Mr. Berty to me. “Let’s take it from that ‘O Romeo, Romeo’ mush that makes us all long for our own Romeo!”

I cannot understand why he would want me to play Juliet at all, let alone go first, but I do as he says, stopping my hand from trembling with the small paperback playbook in my hand. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet,” I begin, feeling like some weird person by speaking this Elizabethan-Shakespearean way.

Then Edward speaks, and it almost as if everyone in the whole of the classroom has disappeared completely. He walks toward me. “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

And then it is my turn to speak, and I find myself inching closer to Edward, wanting him to take me into his arms then. “Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a Bella by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.”

Edward chooses then to scale the balcony, and he kneels on the little chair provided for him so as we are face to face, eye to eye, faces almost touching, and I sense that I can hear his breathing becoming a bit hoarse at this prospect, but I do hope he knows full well that there will be no repeats of Friday night. “I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Romeo.”

I can barely get out the next line. “What man art thou that thus bescreen’d in night so stumblest on my counsel?”

Edward consults the script momentarily before replying. “By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee; had I it written, I would tear the word.”

I am so on top of things that I cannot help but answer him immediately. “My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?” I ask of him, feeling at one with Juliet.

He chuckles a bit. “Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.”

I lean forward a bit, desperately wishing that he and I were alone. Our chemistry was entirely electric, and it was not something you could find or create in beakers or test tubes. This was real; this, right here. “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here.”

Edward mimics my leaning towards him. “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls; for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do that dares love attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.”

I consult my script briefly. “If they do see thee, they will murder thee.”

“Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords: Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.”

“I would not for the world they saw thee here.”

Edward and I continue to make loving looks to one another as we continue with the script. I want desperately to throw my arms around his neck and never let go, but I remember the class and keep one hand glued to the script and the other gripping the desk which separates us. I cannot show my real and true love for him—not yet.

“If my heart’s dear love—” he begins.

I reach out to touch his lips at that. “Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say, ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!” I give him a quick kiss that makes my throat burn with a sudden fire before I turn away from him then and move to hop off the stool with a smirk on my face.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

I try not to laugh at the pathetic expression he has come up with for acting unsatisfied. “What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?”

“The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine,” he replies.

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

I lean in closer to him. “But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.” I turn as if the nurse who isn’t there has called me. “I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again.” I lean in and kiss Edward again. The taste of fire doesn’t leave me, and I feel as if I want to wrap myself in his arms and for him to take me away forever. I hop off the stool and run away from him.

“O blessed, blessed night!” Edward shouts. “I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial.”

I rush back to him and position myself carefully upon the stool. “Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honorable, thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, by one that I’ll procure to come to thee, where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; and all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay and follow thee my lord throughout the world.”

Mr. Berty comically screeches, “Madam!” making the whole of the twenty-seven students or so in the classroom laugh.

I struggle to keep character in those final moments. “I come, anon.—But if thou mean’st not well, I do beseech thee—”

Mr. Berty screeches madam again.

I find myself dropping the script then and allow myself to lean forward to take his hand into mine into a grip which is full of passion. “By and by, I come: —To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: Tomorrow will I send.”

“So thrive my soul—”

I cut Edward off with another swift kiss and smile at him. “A thousand times good night!” I say in a stage whisper, before finally allowing myself to throw my arms around him and kiss him. I am totally and completely surprised when he does the same, and the look of hurt in his eyes when I must break away from him, and hop off the stool, before I run to Juliet’s nurse lest she be there to catch us.

Edward climbs down from the chair that has served us well as a tree limb and turns towards the audience of students, who appear to be enraptured. “A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.”

We are greeted with applause and return the books to Mr. Berty before taking our seats by Renee and Charlie respectively. Renee gives me a grin and makes her perfectly plucked eyebrows go up and down. From the corner of my eye I see Charlie nudging Edward. Edward, who has to make it look like we do stuff like this all the time, merely shrugs at the praise he is offered and chuckles along with him. I remain silent, wishing that I could have a moment to speak to Edward.

I don’t want to be just friends anymore.

I want to be his real girlfriend.


	17. Now, That’s a Voice

At lunch, I present my new note from Ms. Clearwater to the grandmotherly lunch ladies who inform me that as long as I pay the dollar for lunch, I am perfectly allowed to have one. I take a piece of pizza from the tray with cheese that is yellowing in some places, but I smile at the lady offering it and thank her. I also take chocolate milk and a scoop or two Caesar salad that looks like its leaves have seen better days. I take a chocolate chip cookie for good measure as well and follow Renee to a square table and sit—I guess Tempus brought in the circular tables later in the century or something.

I am surprised when I see Edward with Charlie, and they come and join us. I know quickly that I must act like I haven’t seen Edward in forever, so I stand up when they come over. I take Edward’s tray from his hands and set it down on the table before throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him—I needed to get him back for not speaking to me after the Shakespeare class we’d been made to perform in. “Miss me?” I ask, yet my tone is serious.

“More than you think,” Edward replies, his arms around my waist, and I can see that he is being just as serious as I am.

Charlie is smiling and talking to Renee, and there is absolutely no awkwardness or hesitation between the two of them. “I really enjoyed working with you today in Euro Lit,” he says with a smile. “Man, I had no idea that you could kiss like that!”

Renee blushes then, deepening the product on her face into an attractive, yet natural, dark pink as she looks him over. “Well, you’re not too bad yourself, Charlie.”

“Where’s Kate?” I ask, leaning back into Edward’s arm, which has slipped down and around my waist.

“She has the lunch before this,” Charlie replies, almost as if he doesn’t really care, before going back to his conversation with Renee.

I leaned in closer to Edward automatically, and pretend like I’m going to kiss his neck, but instead I whisper, “Did I detect a slight edge to his tone?”

“Yes,” Edward whispers, mimicking my moves to disguise the fact that we are, in fact, gossiping about people that school society had deemed important. Instead of pulling away, he trails little kisses up and down my neck, and even nibbles me at the end of the trail, sending goose bumps up and down my neck and arms.

“Not here,” I whisper to him.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps kissing me, and he acts like he’s never going to stop this terribly inappropriate for school behavior.

Knowing exactly what to do, and the plus side that our tables’ edge is just up against the wall, I navigate my right hand so that I am rubbing his leg. Then, I inch my way up his knee and manage to get my hand on his crummy early 80’s zipper, and yank it down. Surprisingly, it comes down with little effort, and I manage to stick my hand into Edward’s pants and just manage to find him.

I can feel his shudder in surprise and desire at my touch, and I am trying very hard to keep a straight face at this point. I can hear him sucking in shallow breaths between his lips—he does not want our cover to be blown. By moving my hand back and forth, I am able to keep him nestled in my neck so as nobody can see his face.

When he’s about to show how much desire is within him, he hastily grabs my wrist with his other hand and yanks it away from him without hesitation. He is able to keep his pants clean, but he gives me a ‘Not cool’ look, and I try not to laugh. I give him a half smile and excuse myself to go wash my hands.

. . .

By eighth period, I was fully prepared to run out of the school. However, I know what I have to do to get Charlie to fully focus on Renee. I reserve a practice room for the both of us, get some sheet music, and get the okay from Mr. Black, the band teacher. I just have to prove to him that I am a fully capable singer beforehand. Let’s just say that he was so blown out of the water that he invited me back anytime.

I quickly decided that I would sing a song in front of the class. I chose _You Should Hear How She Talks About You_ by Melissa Manchester. I thought that this would get Charlie’s attention. I also decided that the perfect song for Renee to sing would be _Why Do Fools Fall in Love_ by Diana Ross. I thought that it would be just the thing to get the point across.

“Show me what you’ve got,” I say, picking up an electric guitar.

“Okay,” Renee says. “Ooh wah…”

I shake my head, cease playing, and Renee stops singing. “Try it like this,” I say, beginning the tune on the guitar. “Ooh wah, ooh wah, ooh wah, ooh wah,” I say, making sure my breathing is right and that I’m in a good position. “Try to make it sound like you’re having the time of your life, and like, you’re really questioning this.”

“Okay,” Renee says. She takes a couple of deep breaths, and gets into the same position that I am. “I’m ready.”  
  
“Ooh wah, ooh wah, ooh wah, ooh wah  
Ooh wah, ooh wah, why do fools fall in love  
Why do birds sing so gay and lovers await the break of day  
Why do they fall in love  
Why does the rain fall from up above  
Why do fools fall in love, why do they fall in love   
Love is a losing game, love can be a shame  
I know of a fool you see, for that fool is me  
Tell my why, tell me why  
Why do birds sing so gay and lovers await the break of day  
Why do they fall in love  
Why does the rain fall from up above  
Why do fools fall in love, why do they fall in love  
Why does my heart skip a crazy beat  
For I know it will reach defeat  
Tell me why, tell my why  
Why do fools fall in love, oh, oh, oh  
Tell me why, oh, oh, oh, tell me why, oh…”

I grin at her. “Renee,” I say after we’ve finished.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Wonderful,” I say, clapping. “Now, how do we get Mr. Black to hear the awesomeness that you just performed?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know…”

“Would you like me to go first?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes, please.”

I smile at her and we leave the practice room together. We walk the short distance down the hall and into the band room, where the members of the band are just strumming and tuning their instruments. I advance towards the stage with confidence and climb up on it. “Can I sing with you?” I ask.

They shrug.

“What do you want to sing?” asks a guy named Axel.

“ _You Should Hear How She Talks About You_ by Melissa Manchester,” I reply, as if I’ve known the song all my life.

Charlie lifts his head up. “Really?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

Edward gives me a grin from where he’s standing and takes my electric guitar from me. “She can really sing, you guys,” he says persuasively.

“You’re just saying that because she’s your girlfriend,” complains another young man in the band, named Dex.

“She’s also my cousin,” says Charlie defensively, standing beside Edward, his own electric guitar draped over his shoulders. “ _You Should Hear How She Talks About You_?” he clarifies, nodding at me.

I return his nod. “Yes.”

“Get behind the mic then,” he says with a grin.

I nod and hasten to get to the mic. I switch it on and get into the position that I for so long have deemed the proper one. I take some deep breaths and mentally cross my fingers that my ever-present anxiety will manage not get the better of me. I look at Charlie, grin, and give him a nod as they start to play.  
  
“She’s so very nice you should break the ice  
Let her know that she’s on your mind  
Whatcha tryin’ to hide when you know inside  
She’s the best thing you’ll ever find?  
Ahh, can’t you see it?  
Don’t you think she’s feeling the same?  
Ahh, I guarantee it  
She’s the one who’s calling your name  
You should hear how she talks about you  
You should hear what she says  
She says she would be lost without you  
She’s half out of her head  
You should hear how she talks about you  
She just can’t get enough  
She says she would be lost without you  
She is really in love  
  


I ain’t tellin’ tales, anybody else  
Could repeat the things that I’ve heard  
She’s been talkin’ sweet and it’s on the street  
How a girl being spreadin’ the word  
  


Ahh, you should hurry  
You should let her know how you feel  
Ahh, now don’t you worry  
She gets scared that love is for real  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
You should hear what she says  
She says she would be lost without you  
She’s half out of her head  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
She is really in love  
  


Ahh, you should hurry  
You should let her know how you feel  
Ahh, now don’t you worry  
If you’re scared that love is for real  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
You should hear what she says  
She says she would be lost without you  
She’s half out of her head  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
She just can’t get enough  
She says she would be lost without you  
She is really in love  
  


Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk  
Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk  
Can’tcha see?  
It’s me  
Who, what you said?  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
You should hear what she says  
She says she would be lost without you  
She’s half out of her head  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
She just can’t get enough  
She says she would be lost without you  
She is really in love  
  


You should hear how she talks about you  
You should hear what she says  
She says she would be lost without you  
She’s half out of her head  
You should hear how she talks about you…”

Charlie gives me a grin and claps, along with Edward, who is just beaming. I feel my flush all around me, and the warmth distracts me from the anxiety I feel about performing in public for the first time. It is a truly daunting experience and I’m unsure how I was able to summon the strength to do it.

As I look around the room, I can see Mr. Black has come out of his office and give me an appreciative nod. He comes and stands next to me on the stage. He leans down and whispers something in my ear.

“It was my job to pick a member of my class to sing with the band at the Spring Fling, but you’re Charlie’s cousin, so if I pull some strings, it could be you. Do you want to sing with Charlie and the Swans at the dance?”

I blink, trying not to laugh at the cheesy, 80’s sounding band name. “Are you serious?” I ask, wavering ever so slightly.

He nods. “Very serious,” he replies.

I grin at him. “What does Charlie think?”

Mr. Black smiles. “I told him that I was considering you when you and Renee were in the practice room earlier.”

“And what did he say?” I ask.

“Look at him,” Mr. Black says. I turn my head and see him smiling at me and telling everyone that I was indeed his cousin. “What do you think?”

“He seemed to like it, Mr. Black.”

“Do you want the job?”

“Yes,” I reply before I can change my mind.


	18. The Second Time Around

Marie conspicuously picks me, Renee, and Edward up that afternoon, about an hour later. We pile into her car before she drops Renee off at home and then brings us back to her place. She says that she is actually going back to Renee’s because she is going to volunteer with her at the animal shelter that afternoon until her parents get back from work. She gives us her house key and waves goodbye to us.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she says clandestinely to me, ending on a giggle, as she departs down the street.

Edward goes to his bedroom to lie down. I perch on the living room couch and try to get into an ABC Afterschool Special. I can’t even focus on the plot—I think it has something to do with the negative impacts of drugs and teenage pregnancy or something. I find myself constantly looking towards Edward’s bedroom door, and I hesitated for several minutes before getting to my feet.

I cross the room and down to the end of the hall, where his bedroom is located, and find myself hesitating outside it. _What the hell are you waiting for_?! I demand to myself. _I mean, for god’s sake, you’re in love with the guy_! I place my hand upon the door handle and step inside. I see him then, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He picks up his head as I walk in, and I hesitate on the threshold, before forcing myself to speak.

“I just wanted to apologize to you for what happened at lunch today,” I say quickly. “I had no right to do what I did, and, well, I’m sorry.”

Edward stands up and comes towards me. It is always a shock to see his six foot two frame, and I find myself stepping back slightly. I knock into the edge of the door by mistake, and he takes this opportunity to get even closer to me. He leans down and kisses me, and then I am clinging to him.

I cannot bring myself to let go of him. I love him, I love him, I love him. Then he is picking me up and taking me towards the bed. He kicks the door shut behind him, all the while holding onto me tenderly. He puts me down in the center of the bed, and I reach over to the small clock radio. I am hinging this all happening again to see if the random radio station that the radio is tuned to is playing _Africa_ by Toto again.

My hand slaps the radio in an absentminded sort of fashion. “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you, there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa, gonna take some time to do the things we never had…”

“This song again?” asks Edward, his lips against mine, his chuckle sending hot flames of fire down my throat. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can,” I whisper, pulling him towards me. “I can believe it.” I don’t let him go and allow him to do whatever he wants to me. Of course, I want it, too, but I remain silent, except for the sharp breaths that naturally come through my lips, which are the direct reaction of what he is doing to me.

“Bella, I l—”

“No,” I whisper. “Just do this now. No obligation whatsoever, Edward. We’ll probably forget about this in the morning.”

He crawls back towards my face. “Never,” Edward whispers back, and kisses me again.

. . .

We barely say anything over the ordered pizza that evening. I don’t know if Edward’s and my appearance—both fresh from separate showers—raises eyebrows or not, but I don’t care; I am beyond caring. I remain silent all through the meal, only nodding to show that I am keeping up with the slight conversation at hand. I excuse myself to go to bed afterwards, and Marie soon comes to join me. It is soon clear that she has no intention of going to bed. It is clear she came to talk.

“Okay, what happened?” she demands.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Bella—”

“No!”

“Bella, are you on the pill?”

I blink and turn to look at her. “No…”

“And what about a condom?” she asks. “Did Edward use one?”

I shake my head. It was a fantasy come to life, so of course we weren’t thinking about anything like that... “No.”

She puts her head into her hands. “Bella, Bella, Bella…”

“There’s no saying that I’ll get pregnant or an STD. And I’m from 2013, so the dad’s not automatically expected to stay around.”

“You’re talking like you’re already pregnant.”

“Right,” I say sarcastically, throwing myself back onto the pillows. “That would make me either three days or three hours pregnant.”

“Do you think you are?”

“No. I couldn’t be.”

“Bella…”

“Look at my mother!” I say at last. “She was barely able to get pregnant with me, Marie! I’m probably like her…”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Oh, come on. I learned it in health class.”

Marie’s mouth became a thin line. “Where you learned how to use a condom and where you learned that you should be on the pill?”

I glare at her. “I really hate you right now.”

“And as your second cousin, I can tell you to respect me.”

“Yeah, my second cousin who’s in jail for murder!” I scream at her, my voice shaking, before I can stop myself. “You don’t know anything! You obviously thought you were so above the law that you basically thought, ‘Screw my family, screw their family, and screw everyone’s fucking family’! And then you did what you did! You’re a killer, Marie, a _killer_! Pardon me if I don’t want to take advice from someone like _you_ ,” I spit in her direction before turning to face the fall.

Marie goes white as I turn away, and she stands up and leaves the room.

“No... Marie, wait.” The door slams behind her then, causing me to react to the sound, and I let out a cry of fear at what could happen. I open the door but by the time I manage to get out into the hallway, she is already gone. “Marie!” I scream, dashing towards the front door, but see nothing. “Marie!” I scream out into the darkness, fear in my throat. “Dammit,” I whisper, leaning against the door frame. “What have I done...?”

. . .

I remembered the conversation—the only one—that my mother and I had about Marie. I’d found the only photograph of her, standing and laughing with both my parents. They were in Marie’s quintessential living room, and Marie had the bunny ears behind both their heads. I held the photo as my mother was cleaning the master bedroom, and showed it to her.

“Mommy, who is that?” I asked. 

“Someone from Daddy’s and my past,” she replied.

“Why does she look like me?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Coincidence,” she replied.

“Why haven’t we met her?”

My mother hesitated. “She did a bad thing. She hurt someone, and so she went somewhere because she broke the law.”

“Hurt someone?” I asked.

“She…made them not be alive anymore.”

“Kill?” I whispered.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“When will she come out of the place?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

“Because, she needs to get a shot before she comes out.”


	19. The Ambush

I had just remembered the conversation. I suppose I blocked a lot of memories with my parents, considering the fact that they were not there for me so much as a child. Recalling my conversation with my mother about how Marie was on Death Row really shook me. I didn’t mean for it to come out, it just happened, and I needed to find her and explain.

I go to Edward’s room after screaming into the night and quickly pound on the door, having no regard for the condition of my hands. “Edward!” I cry.

He opens the door without hesitation. He is glaring down at me. He is the only other one who knows the information that I told Marie, and I know then that she told him what I’d said to her in anger.

“What do you want?” he demands.

I feel immediately guilty. “Edward, please, I…”

“That’s not a response,” he replies, his voice clipped.

“I need to find Marie,” I reply desperately. “Please…tell me, is she in there with you? I _really_ need to talk to her…”

“Marie is gone. She left,” he replies, his words like boulders sinking into a deep river; flat, unemotional, cruel.

“She _left_?!” I cry.

“On foot, out my window,” he says, nodding to the open window behind him—I guess global warming wasn’t as popular in 1982.

“Edward, come with me, please. I need you.”

He shakes his head. “You’re on your own.”

I shake my head at him. “I can’t believe I could ever love someone who can’t forgive an honest mistake,” I say before I can stop myself, my tone of voice dripping with disdain before I turn away from him. And there it was, the one forbidden word that I’d never allowed myself to say regarding my relationship with him. I allow myself to hesitate for a moment before I slip on my shoes and run through the living room.

I can’t see Sue or Harry anywhere, so I have no idea what to think. I hasten out the front door and grab Marie’s spare set of keys on the hook. When I get to Marie’s car, I can see that Edward is already standing near it, arms crossed. I am somewhat surprised to see him standing there, so I just raise my eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” I demand, trying and failing to make my voice sound as cold as possible.

“Was it true?”

“Was what true?” I say evasively.

He sighs. “The honest mistake, for one thing.”

I sighed, not knowing where to begin with him. “Yes, it’s all true. Marie figured out what happened with us and asked if we used any kind of protection and she got all up in my face about pregnancy and STD’s.” I shake my head at him. “I just felt…violated…”

He nods. “I understand.”

I try to brush past him, gripping the keys in my hand. “It’s not like it really means anything anyway,” I say, avoiding eye contact with him as I make my way over to the driver’s side of Marie’s car. “What’s the other thing?”

“What other thing?” he asks, choosing to ignore my snide comment.

“You made it sound like you wanted another truth,” I say, crossing my arms and forcing myself to remain non compliant.

He sighed. “I did.”

“What, Edward?” I ask.

“Do you love me?”

I am standing about a foot away from him, and we are under a street light, yet I manage to keep my eyes lowered. Tears are running down my face and I find that, for once, I have no idea what to say. I don’t even have the urge to pull away when he reaches down to push my chin up, his touch sending goose bumps along my collarbone. He wants an answer, but I am prepared to make him work for it.

“Bella…”

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

I hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I want to know,” he replies.

I sigh. “Until you come up with a better reason than that, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to wait for the final answer,” I say softly.

“My life isn’t some crappy game show,” he says, reaching out without hesitation and grabbing me by the arm. “Come on. I want a straight answer.”

I pull myself from his grip, walking around him and towards the other side of the car. “I’m going to find Marie. Now, are you coming or not?”

Edward sighs and gets into the passenger seat. He says nothing as we cruise up and down the streets for the next hour as the sun goes down. Something tells me to leave the University Park neighborhood altogether, so I do. Soon we are on I-5 and going the speed limit, although my heart is clearly going a mile a minute, I’m so scared.

We pass several signs and such, until I see one advertising White Center, and I hastily get off the freeway. I am then on S.W. Roxbury St. and then I turn on Fifteenth Ave. S.W. and keep driving until I get to S.W. One Hundred and Second St. where I hesitate. I see that we are by a park, with a sign that aptly says White Center Park, and I get out of the car.

“Why are we stopping here?” Edward asks me then, getting out of the car and following me towards the park.

“Because I think Marie is here.”

I don’t give him an explanation and keep walking in the dark, listening to the silence of the night and wondering what possessed me to come here. I creep around the dark with Edward at my heels, and mentally urged him to keep quiet, lest he disturb someone or something. I find a trio of trees to my left and urge Edward to come behind them with me. As we flee to the trees, I notice that it is slowly but surely getting darker.

“What answer could be better?” he asks.

“What?”

“Do you love me or not?”

I grit my teeth. “I would slap you, Edward, but for the life of me I don’t want to attract unnecessary attention towards us. This is not a good time, really. I will answer you eventually, just not now.”

He sighs, attempting to reach out for me in the darkness. “All right, Bella, all right. I just don’t see why you’d bring me here of all places. I mean, if you wanted to be alone with me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Edward, please,” I snap. “We’re looking for Marie. That’s it.”

“I understand, but here? We’re almost twenty minutes from her house! What possessed you to come here?”

“I don’t know, Edward, I…”

And then an all-too-familiar scream cuts through the night—it matches my scream to a T, making me feel even more vulnerable. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and sends chills down my spine. I look at Edward, and know full well that he’s experiencing the same symptoms. I then find myself clinging to him out of fear as we hear a voice.

“Quiet, you!” growls the first voice.

“Please, stop!” comes the second voice. I know then that it is the screamer—a young girl—and that it is Marie. “Please, I won’t tell anyone! Just leave me alone, please! Please, leave me alone and let me go!”

“Shut up, you crazy bitch! _Shut up_!”

I feel myself inhaling slightly, my voice trembling. “Edward, what’s the date?”

Edward's eyes snap to mine. "What?"

"The date!" I snap back.

Edward appears humbled then, yet continues to hesitate. “Bella, really…”

“Just tell me!” I beg. 

“April 12, 1982,” he replies. “Why?”

“Charles Rodman Campbell,” I whisper. Looking around the third tree, I soon see him with Marie, growling at her like a wild animal and scaring her.

Edward sees them, too. Because we are wearing black, Campbell does not see us lurking in the dark shadows. “I could take him,” he whispers. “You stay here, Bella, and I’ll get him to give Marie to me.”

“No!” I cry. “Edward, please. Let me go...”

“Like hell...” He begins.

I cut across him. “It’s my fault she’s in this mess. Let me go, Edward. I’ll distract him, and then you can grab her or something.”

“But what about you, Bella?” he demands through his teeth, pulling me lengthwise against him in a moment of protection—or was it something more? “I won’t leave you here.”

I mutely reach into my bag with my free hand and take out the gun that I always carry for my own protection when I am not in school. However, the day we travelled back here, I’d forgotten to take it out, but there was no time to think about that now. I show him the gun, although my hand is shaking.

“No,” he says firmly, although his voice shakes a little as he attempts to take the gun from me, all the while keeping me pinned against him. “Let me get her, Bella, please.”

I shake my head at him. “I will not.” I reach out in the darkness and touch his face briefly. “I can’t lose you,” I whisper, “not after everything...I can’t...” before I close the distance between us and press his lips to mine, pausing for a moment before allowing my mouth to open beneath his, and his arm around me relaxes. And then, I break away, and return the gun to my purse and then I am running after Campbell and Marie. “Hey, Campbell!” I scream.

He stops in his pursuit of Marie, who stops as well. He looks from Marie to me in obvious confusion, before making a grab for Marie and holding her in a choke hold, something that makes my spine tingle and my blood boil. I want desperately to hurt him or see him hurt for what he’s doing...

“This is a trick!” Campbell spits.

“No trick,” I say, stepping forward, releasing my grip upon my gun in the darkness and holding my hands up, letting him know that I am surrendering completely to him. “Take me as your captive, Campbell. My twin sister here isn’t worth it. She’ll blab everything to the world if you let her go. But I’m as quiet as a mouse. Take me, Campbell.”

“Your sister is hotter,” he snarls, pulling Marie further away from me, and Marie lets out a soft squeak of pain. “Shut up,” he growls in her ear before turning back to me. “I think I’d rather deal with her.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” I step forward, knowing that I am in a lot of danger, but refusing to give up completely. “Let her go, Campbell. _Now_.”

He weighs this before releasing Marie, who falls to the ground, and walks towards me, and I manage to move just so I can shove her into the trees to Edward. The killer in front of me gives me a grin that makes me want to scream and run and wet my pants all at once. I have to mentally force myself to keep still as he comes towards me menacingly. He grabs me by the arm and drags me off towards where the public bathrooms are. Fearing for my life at this point—because I know that rape and murder is inevitable—I quickly draw the gun from my bag, knowing that I had to defend myself at all costs before it was too late. I force my hand not to shake as I point it at him.

“Don’t move!” I say shakily, before managing to wriggle from his grasp and gain control as I narrow my eyes at him. “Step back now, you coward!” I growl, causing him to shrink away from me, and, for the first time, I realize what a rat-like creature he truly is. “That’s right, step back, you lowlife coward. How dare you do this to me and to my twin sister! How dare you do this to anyone?!”

“You don’t have the guts to shoot,” he says in a guttural tone.

“Oh no?” I ask him. “I’ve got plenty,” I growl back. I cock the gun and point it at him, but when I go to shoot, the gun pops and nothing happens. I swear under my breath as I check and see the bullet chamber and find it empty. It seems that I forgot to load it the previous time I went to the shooting range with Jasper.

Campbell laughs maniacally then and grabs the gun away from me. He takes out a gun of his own and aims it at me.

“Are you prepared for that?” I whisper.

“Prepared for what?” he nearly whines.

“Making the leap from rape to murder,” I say softly.

His eyes flash at my knowledge. “Yes.” He cocks the gun and he shoots, a bullet landing smack dab in my left foot—he wants to make me suffer.

I scream as I feel it make contact, and fall to my knees, clutching my foot as blood manages to seep through my fingers and goes onto the bathroom floor. I hear footsteps to my right, and raise my eyes in horror at what I see. “No…” I whisper.

Campbell doesn’t notice; he laughs. He raises the gun a second time, this time taking another aim for me. He aims for my right foot this time, and fires. He laughs even harder when I crash to the floor, double the blood seeping from my hands and onto the floor. Campbell laughs then, and I know for a fact that he must be insane, as he poises the gun and walks towards me, so as he can hold it to my head as he rapes me.

“No, you’re not going to make that leap tonight!” Edward shouts, suddenly rushing into the bathroom and shoving me between the ground and the wall as the gun goes off a second and third time. Edward goes to the ground and, Campbell—the coward and simpleton that he is—takes off into the night.

I am screaming as I immediately kneel down beside Edward, taking in the gunshot by his rib and right hand, and my screams will not stop. “Edward!” I cry, ignoring my bleeding feet and automatically taking his face, chiseled reverently from marble, into my hands, my tears plummeting down onto it. “Marie!” I scream, my voice raw from the impact of my screams of terror and anguish. “Marie! Come out, please! He’s gone now and I’m sorry! He’s gone…and I’m so sorry,” I say brokenly, looking down at Edward, who is clearly stunned.

“Bella…” He whispers. “You’ve been hit…”

“Shh, don’t talk,” I say, leaning down kissing him briefly, but hastily remember that he needs as much oxygen as possible. “I’m so sorry, Edward, really…” I say to him softly, cupping his face in my hands.

I hear something then and look up to see, through the bathroom door, Marie actually driving her car up onto the park property. I don’t even want to know how long in juvenile detention that someone could get for property damage of that scale. I find myself lifting Edward without any assistance whatsoever, and I ignore the shooting pain in both my feet, as I manage to put him into the backseat of the car. I am whispering as many soothing things as I can to him when Marie breaks the silence.

“The nearest hospital is Schick Memorial and its four minutes away,” she tells me as we drive out of the park. “Dammit, did you get shot too?!” she demands, looking at the two of us in a stern manner.

I lower my eyes. “I’ll pay for any upholstery damage,” I say softly.

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

We go down Fifteenth Avenue again and then turn onto Auburn Boulevard S.W. and then Marie parks right outside the hospital building. I lift Edward up again, and it feels as if I am lifting a feather as I open the door of the car and run limply into the hospital, covering the floor in both of our blood. I do my best not to slip on the white tiled floor, and as I make my way further into the lobby area, I am suddenly aware of how we must look, but my main concern is to get Edward well again.

“Please help me!” I scream. “I need a stretcher now!”

Soon men and women all dressed in white are surrounding us and they take my beloved Edward out of my arms and away from me. I slowly walk after them until I reach the waiting room and immediately collapse in a chair. It is then that I notice the stares and a nurse takes note of my appearance and comes over to me. I can hear her speaking to me but cannot process the words. She gently taps my leg, forcing me to look at her in an automatic sort of way.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Your ankle is twisted, you’re covered in blood, and it looks like you had a bullet go through your hand and both your feet, miss.”

I blink and lower my eyes. My left foot is at a very odd angle, and a shot of pain goes up my leg when I try to move it as blood continues to drip from its foot. It must have happened when Edward pushed me out of the way, and when Campbell shot, he must have shot three times or the bullet may have gone through Edward—explaining all the blood—and through my right hand as well. I turn and look at the nurse.

“What happens now?” I whisper, forcing myself not to look at my damaged hand, foot, or ankle as I attempt to care. They are all reminders of my foolishness.

“We help you,” she replies.


	20. The Hospital

The kind nurse gets me a room to myself where I am taken out of my bloody clothes by an ever-helpful Marie. I manage to stumble around for a time before she tells me to get into bed almost immediately. She tells them in an authoritative tone that I am her twin sister and that my name is Bella Swan, which they surprisingly believe.

She organizes for my clothes to be sent to the hospital laundry while she gives me a quick sponge bath to get off most of the blood. I cringe at the feeling of hot water going over and over my wounds, but know full well that sanitation is a key thing here. Then, she puts me in a hospital gown and helps me into bed. I am then given a morphine shot and then the whole world goes black.

. . .

In my dream I am walking somewhere. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can hear Edward calling for help somewhere far away. As soon as I hear his voice, I feel the need to run towards it, but I find I cannot. I fall to my knees and am crawling through this thick, silvery fog to try and get to him. Then, his voice goes farther and farther away, and I cannot reach him. And then, the strangest thing of all happens.

I am falling…

Falling…

Falling…

. . .

I open my eyes and soon I am awake in a state of terror, with this massive heart monitor beeping out of control. It actually has one of those papers spewing out of it like a polygraph, and I suddenly forget where I am. There are two stickers on my chest, attaching me to the monitor, and I look around, seeing Marie coming toward me.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ve got to calm down or else they’ll come back in here. It’s very difficult to lie to doctors, you know.”

I nod, although I know it’ll take a miracle for all of that to happen. I lower my eyes and see that my ankle has been straightened and popped back into place, and that there is a minor cast over it. My right hand is bound up from the injury it sustained from the bullet as well, as well as both my feet, also wrapped in casts. I find that I am surprised to see another cast on and around my left shoulder, making it difficult to move around at all. 

“Your shoulder was dislocated,” Marie says softly. “It probably happened from the fall and from helping Edward.”

“Edward?” I whisper, my heart beating faster at the very thought of him. “You’ve got to tell me everything, Marie...right now,” I say, my voice firm at her look of hesitation.

Marie raises her eyebrows. “Only if you calm down, Bella.”

I find that I am able to be calm. “Is he dead?” I whisper.

“No. He’s very much alive, Bella.”

“How long have I been…?”

“Asleep?” asks Marie, turning and checking the prehistoric clock on the wall. “Just for a few hours or so, nothing major. It’s just noon right now.”

“Noon as in…?”

“April 13, 1982,” she replies.

I nod. “And is Edward…?”

“He’s awake and has been for about three hours more than you,” Marie replies with ease, and I find I am shocked, due to the injuries he sustained. “He responded well to the medication—morphine included, unlike you—and has been requesting an abundance of Jell-O from each and every nurse and doctor who comes to see him.”

“How are the…?”

“Wounds?” asks Marie, sitting beside me. “They’ll heal eventually. He’s all wrapped up in that sticky tape stuff. He’s lucky that the bullet went completely through him and missed anything vital. It’s funny; the doctors thought it went into his ribs when in fact it just missed them. He’s very lucky, Bella; as I’m sure you can figure out.”

I nod. “Am I allowed to see him?” I ask in a soft voice.

“Yes,” Marie replies. “I already asked the doctor on your behalf.” She crosses the room and opens the door. She retrieves a wheelchair apparently set aside just for me in the hallway and helps me get into it without much pain. I groan a little just to freak her out and am rewarded with a light slap to the head, as it is one of the only things without injury.

She walks me a short distance down the hall, which feels like it’s taking forever, but I suppose everyone and every place has its own speed limit. I thank her when she wheels me to the room, my gaze lost upon Edward, and tell her to wait outside and to close the door. She pushes me in gently and up to the bed before giving Edward a knowing smile and departing out the door, closing it behind her.

“Edward,” I whisper. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He smiles at me, then takes a good look at me, his brows knitting together in concern. “They wouldn’t tell me about your injuries…”

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders, but wincing. “Dislocated left shoulder, bullet through my right hand and both feet, and a twisted ankle,” I reply, wanting very much to shed the casts and to come out a new woman. I give him a weak smile. “The most important thing here is that we’re alive, you know, Edward.”

“We’ve still got to complete the mission,” he says firmly. “We’ve got to make sure that you get born, Bella.”

“Why?” I ask.

Edward fixes me with such a heartbreakingly beautiful expression that I could cry then and there as he does so, and I’ve never felt closer to him. He makes a move to reach for me and I bring my wheelchair closer to his bed. Feeling comforted around him, I hope that Bella is able to hold off any major hospital staff, at least for a while.

“I would have thought you’d have guessed by now, Bella. It’s been the case for years, only I wasn’t sure until last night if you felt this way, too, but now, I’ve got to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I ask.

“I love you, Bella Swan,” he says. And, with more than likely all his strength, he leans forward and kisses me. I reach up with my right arm—because my shoulder isn’t in need of relaxation—and pull him closer to me. I return the kiss with full force, and I never want to let him go. My mouth opens beneath his as it did the night before, and our tongues each mingle for a moment before exploring the other’s mouth. His own heart monitor begins beeping slightly, and I know we must pull away.

Tears fall out of my eyes as he pulls away from me, and I know that it would be wrong to hold back any longer. “I hated what you did with Rosalie Hale,” I say in an accusing tone. “All these years, I’ve loved you, and yet you still did what you did. Why?”

He smiles a small smile. “I wanted to make you jealous, but later I decided the main reason was that I wanted you to come to your senses.”

Then I am shaking my head. “Come to my senses?” I demand. “What are you talking about, Edward Cullen?” I ask.

“I wanted you to come to your senses that you loved me,” he replies softly, almost as if he cannot believe it himself. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper. I want to stand up and throw this godforsaken wheelchair against the wall, but there is nothing I can do. I reach my right hand to his and clasp it. “What does this mean for Rosalie Hale, if I may ask?” I inquire of him.

Edward smiles. “She’s going to have to find herself someone else to play with, because I am done with her.”

“And?” I ask.

“And I’ve been taken since that day when we were in the closet playing Seven Minutes in Heaven,” he replies, before taxing his strength once more by leaning forward and kissing me again.


	21. A Form of Poison

The doctors are as surprised as I am when I heal faster than expected. I know full well why I’m healing faster—it probably has to do with the fact that, because of modern medicine that I’m used to, and keep in my bag for safety reasons—and they are skeptical. I am off morphine by the second day and by the third day, both my ankle and my formally dislocated shoulder casts are ready to come off. The doctors formally discharge me the following day, as I am left handed and able to write Bella Swan on the papers pushed at me.

As it is part of hospital protocol, Marie must escort me out of there in a wheelchair so as I don’t fall and potentially sue anyone. I roll my eyes at the rule, and then question the whereabouts of Sue and Harry. Marie says that they expressed worry for my well-being, but—as they are merely pretending to be my parents—did not have to physically see me in the hospital. I nod like I understand as I am wheeled to the car.

Renee bursts forth from the car and opens the back door for me. She throws her arms around me, sobbing a little before pulling back and inspecting my face. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t want anyone here getting the wrong idea.”

I chuckle lightly, not wanting to get lost in a potential conversation regarding homosexuality with my teenaged mother at the moment. “Don’t worry about it, Renee. I understand.” I am quickly helped into the car and sit silently in the back seat. “It’s the sixteenth?” I ask as Marie pulls out of the parking lot.

“Yes,” she replies.

I sigh and lean back on the seat. I miss Edward already. It is then that I realize that he will need me, so I open the door. I don’t even ask Marie to stop the car; I merely tuck and roll out on the hard concrete. I am surprised that I get out of it with only some minor aches, so I run back to the hospital. Marie has, by this time, back peddled so that she can ask me what the hell is going on, but I don’t even give her the time of day. I rush through the hospital doors and find myself running down one hall and up another.

“Edward!” I cry, and then I am by his door. I open it, and see an empty bed. My heart nearly stops as I feel like I will vomit, my knees weakening. “Edward?” I whisper, advancing upon the bed and looking around.

“Are you looking for the young man who stayed in here?” asks a kind-sounding voice from behind me. “Edward Cullen?”

I turn around and see the nurse that helped me on my first night here. I instantly remember that Heidi was her name, so I get real close to let her know that I mean business here. “Heidi, I’m looking for Edward, yes,” I say.

“He was discharged shortly after you were,” Heidi replied.

“But where is he?!” I cry, reaching out and shaking her a bit violently. I step back, visibly shaking as I take in her words. “But…discharged?” I whisper, thinking about the young man that I’d spent every waking moment with during my time here. “I…I need to know what happened here...please. Give me some information, please, I’m begging you, Heidi, I need the information immediately, I—”

“And why should I give you that?” she interrupts me.

I blink, wondering what Heidi’s problem was, other than the obvious of me shaking her and potentially rattling her both emotionally and physically. “But, Heidi…” I hesitate, believing her to be my friend, or, at least, a medical ally of some kind; I’d thought so. “Heidi, I’m Edward’s girlfriend, you know that! You’ve got to tell me!”

She shakes her head, almost as if she doesn’t believe me, and that she is beyond caring at this point. “Sorry,” she says, going back to her ever-present clipboard with various names and the like scrawled onto its un-computer-like surface. “My hands are tied.”

“Heidi,” I say, reaching out and touching her arm. “Please, I’m begging you. I just know that something’s not right here. Something’s wrong, and I know it. I’m going to get to the bottom of this; I have to. Please, please, do us both a favor and just tell me where he is, please. I’m his girlfriend…” I say, feeling humiliated as tears begin to form in my eyes.

I am surprised when Heidi gets this phony-looking smile on her face, almost as if we are being watched. “Please, Miss Swan, I would suggest that you go and not worry about Edward. He probably said that you were his girlfriend to make you recover better or something. I mean, look at him, look at you. You are clearly out of his league…”

But that is all she is able to get out. I grab a syringe that is lying in wait in her pocket, practically wanting to be grabbed. I lash out with it and with all my strength, hold her up against the wall. “This thing says penicillin,” I growl right in her face, and even I detect the fear at the back of my voice. “If I recall, you told me that you were allergic to the stuff, just like I am. Now, why don’t you give me the information, or I swear, I’m going to give you such a puncture wound…”

Heidi is trembling when I suddenly notice that she is grabbing ahold of her walkie, which is when my blood runs cold. If only I could smash that electronic device, and then run out a back door or something…

“Security!” she is screaming frantically, and all is lost to me then. “ _Security_! I need you here in Ward C now!”

Perhaps they managed to lock quickly onto her exact coordinates or maybe there’s one officer lurking per hallway. Needless to say I am grabbed, the syringe is ripped from my fingers, and Heidi is released, much to her satisfaction. I think for a moment that I should go quietly, but there’s no such luck.

“You let go of me, you goddamn jerks!” I scream at them, and then I am thrashing in their massive arms. “Let me go this minute, I say! That nurse just wouldn’t give me the information that I wanted! Let me go, now!” I know I sound like I’m going crazy, but I don’t care. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to scratch Heidi’s eyes out and to wipe that triumphant and smug look off her face, slowly… I am dragged away then, informing them that I need the information of Edward’s whereabouts immediately, but it does no good.

I never thought that I’d see the inside of a security office—not in the situation that I’d be on the bad side, at least. They bring me in and throw me, hard, down onto a chair; I’ve just been proven crazy pre-psychological exam, and, therefore, I don’t deserve to be treated humanely. I cross my arms and glare at each and every one of them, not willing to talk, and certainly not willing to move. I then turn my face away to the wall, unwilling to do anything.

“What’s your name?”

I don’t say anything.

“Hey! This would be a whole lot easier if you just cooperated. Maybe explain the situation for starters, and then we’ll see about the charges.”

Charges?! Were they kidding?! All I did was threaten Heidi...with a loaded syringe full of a drug that could potentially kill her. Maybe she would need some therapy after this, but she seemed all right. I couldn’t believe what I had done, or what had come over me in getting the information. I’d never done anything like that, and I didn’t want to, ever again.

“ _Girl_!” screams that nuisance of an officer. Then he is grabbing roughly at my face so that I will look at him. Feeling that anger that broke the surface barrier before, I no longer feel like I am connected to my body.

I give him the most loathsome look I can muster, before taking a good look at his hand. Then my teeth are on him and I’m not letting go. I’m biting and biting, and he’s screaming and screaming, and I taste blood. Immediately, other officers are swarming us, and I am knocked away from Macho Man #1. After my head hits the concrete wall, I am spiraling in my head, and it feels warm on the spot that I’ve hit.

I let out a sigh. “Next time, keep your hands off,” I grumble at them before the blackness comes to envelope me.

. . .

The harsh smell of mildew wakes me up, sending my nose into a frenzy of distaste, and my head informing me that I’m going to be sick. I open my eyes and look around me. I see quickly that I am in some sort of prison-like cell, and that sends me into a panic. They couldn’t put me in jail, could they?! I _was_ a minor, after all…

I go to the door and bang on it. I am shaking, and I need answers now. “Could someone talk to me, please?!” I yell.

A guard comes up to my door and looks me up and down. “Oh,” he says then. “So you’re the one who threatened assault on the nurse and bit that officer?”

I go pale. “I… What?”

The guard gives me a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he says. “Your case got a hearing,” he continues before giving me a concerned look. “You hungry?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Come on,” he says. He unlocks my door, the rusty bolt like a squeal in my ears, before he takes me by the arm. “Orders, Miss Swan,” he says patiently. “We’ve judged you not a direct threat, otherwise, you’d be in handcuffs.”

I nod, his gentle grip a far better alternative. “Of course, sir. I get it.”

We walk to the cafeteria area and I am allowed to pick what I want to eat. I choose a cheeseburger and juice and a cookie before going to sit down. A sign on the wall dubs this place King County Juvenile Detention, and a shiver goes down my spine at the meaning of it all as I take a bite out of my burger. It is mediocre at best—dry and without flavor on a soggy bun—and my orange jumpsuit is so not the color for me.

“How are you doin’?” my guard asks, chewing on a bendy-looking slice of pizza, decorated with olives and pepperoni. 

“Fine,” I reply.

“What’s your name?”

“Bella,” I say, knowing that I still have to play the part as I stare down at the green tabletop in front of me. “Bella Swan. I just wonder where my sister got to…”

“Does she look like you? I mean, exactly like you?”

I nod, looking up. “Yeah,” I reply. “Her name is Marie.”

He nods. “Yeah. Marie and this one other girl…”

“Renee?” I ask.

“Renee, that was it!” he replies, snapping his fingers. “They came looking for you earlier, but I’m afraid couldn’t let them see you.”

“Why?”

“One, you were asleep, and two, it wasn’t visiting hours.”

“When are visiting hours?” I ask, picking at my cookie.

“Not until tomorrow,” he replies, his tone sympathetic. “You arrived just after three, when visiting hours are over.”

“I’m in the Central District, right?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes. Apparently, you and your sister live a mere forty seconds from here by car. At least, that’s what she told me.”

“Four minutes by foot and bus, and two by bike,” I say softly, sticking the straw into the juice box and sipping slowly. “What a small world it is…”

“Very small,” says the guard, chewing his pizza.

“Did Marie or Renee mention Edward?”

“No. Who’s Edward?” he asks.

“Nobody—I mean, he’s not an accomplice or anything,” I say, not wanting to get his name mixed up in this. I realize that I grabbed an oatmeal raisin cookie instead of a chocolate chip, and the guard offers me his sugar cookie. It’s not my favorite, but I know I should accept his considerate offer. He knows my hands are clean, as I washed them shortly before the two of us arrived in here. I thank him and take the cookie and handing over my rejected one.

We eat in silence for the rest of the meal. I am allowed to walk outside for half an hour, and then it’s back inside for recreation. I choose _Great Expectations_ from a bookshelf and feel a lot like Pip, especially now. I thumb through the paperback copy, trying to find something of significance, when I see two large-shoed feet appear in front of me. I raise my eyes, and see a young girl, probably about seventeen, glaring down at me.

“May I help you?” I ask.

“You’re the new girl?” she demands harshly.

I nod. “Yes. I’m Bella.”

She reaches out and backhands me across the face. I fall from where I was sitting in the corner and onto the floor. I taste copper, and I desperately want to fight back, but I don’t move. I stay on the ground as this older girl lays brutally into me. She kicks me and laughs, not stopping until I hear shouts of who I think are adults and then the kicking stops.

I am lifted up by strong hands and carried to a sterile environment. I soon judge it to be a nurses’ office, where I am overseen. The nurse tells me that I’ve got two black eyes—one from the slap and one from crashing down to the floor—a bloody nose and a cut lip. She gives me pain medication, to be held onto by my guard, should I decide to overdose.

I am then taken to a new room, one more forgiving and less harsh than the cell that I’d been held in before. This one had a proper bed, one window, a desk full of paper and pencils (dulled ones), and a closet full of orange jumpsuits in exactly my size. My guard leaves the room and the nurse comes in to help me into the prison nightgown—due to my newly fractured shoulder—before my head hits the pillow and I stare up at the ceiling. I cannot believe this turn of events, and vow to do well at my hearing to get out of here as soon as possible. I finally allow myself to shut my eyes and force myself to fall asleep.

. . .

The girl that assaulted me had a whole battery of issues. Her name was Emily Young, and I don’t even want to laugh at the irony of that name, because she looked anything but young, if I’m being upfront about it. I keep to my room, and my guard has managed to sneak a copy of _Great Expectations_ to me, and has also received permission for me to take my meals, as well as my visitors, in my bedroom.

I write letters to Edward, which I keep in my top desk drawer. Nobody suspects me of being so terribly bad, so I am allowed some privacy. I write him once a day, and save the letters. In case we are ever reunited, I will want him to know what I have been up to. I tell him about how I almost fought valiantly against Heidi, before she sicked security on me. I tell him about my guard and how kind he is to me. I also tell him about the biting, and at my injuries that I sustained by Emily Young.

Marie and Renee are permitted to see me for one hour and a half each afternoon during my stint there. I am glad to see some familiar faces, although they are not allowed to ask me what brought me here. We are allowed to discuss the upcoming trial, and what it is like for me in here. I don’t dare ask about Edward, for I fear that he may be lost forever.

They tell me that the man who attacked Bella and me, and shot Edward, in the park a few nights ago, was finally caught on an unrelated charge. I did not want to go to the police and tell them that he was also responsible for major injuries for me, potential psychological trauma for Marie, and a near death experience for Edward; I know it will alter the timeline if I do so. It was also because I did not want to deal with it directly.

I knew that he would eventually end up on Death Row, the death sentence not one I objected to, in this scenario. I’ve just had to make peace with it and move on. By May of 1994, he would be dead and gone, and hopefully by that time, I will be out of here and back in my own time. Only, it would not be my own time without Edward, for I’d come to realize just how important he was to me.

I have numerous nightmares for the five days that I am in there. All of them are of Edward trying to get to me, or me trying to get to Edward. There is always some obstacle preventing it from happening, however, and I find that I always wake up screaming and feeling totally and completely lost. I know that I must do double time when I am out of here—get my parents together, and find a way to figure out what happened to Edward.

Of course, no matter what happened, Edward would always be born. His parents were madly in love, and they gave no indication of splitting up. However, the Edward I returned to would not have the memories sustained on this journey, and I did not want him to forget. I wanted him to remember it all, which is why I had to find him before Friday.

On the afternoon of my fifth day, I was waiting for Marie and Renee to pay me their visit, and when three o’clock came and went, needless to say I was more than a little worried. I consulted my guard, who just kept smiling at me. It was slowly beginning to get on my nerves—as well as creep me out, to be honest.

“Come on! What’s happening?” I cried.

He takes his keys out of his belt. “Someone managed to get you a good lawyer,” he explains in a congratulatory tone as he unlocks my cell door. “It seems as though you got yourself a sentence of probation this time around, Miss Swan,” he says, unlocking my door.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Beaufort,” he replies, and I am suddenly reminded of an old noble family name.

“Nice name,” I tell him. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” he replies, looking away, and I feel as if he’s lying.

“Do you have a good memory, Beaufort?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes.”

“Do you have a pencil and paper?”

He hesitates, but hands them over. I write down my address and the date to come, and hand it back to him. “What’s this?” he asks.

“My address,” I reply.

“But…why 2013?” he asks.

I smile. “I’ve got a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I tell him. “But, to tell you the truth, I do have you in mind for someone, but she’s just got to grow up a little bit first,” I explain to him. I step closer. “You’re a good man, Beaufort. And I hope that you can keep a secret.”

He nods. “I can.”

I readily smiled up at him. “The reason why I put down that year is because I’m from the year 2013,” I reply, wondering if Beaufort will think I’m a total nutcase, but decide to risk it, one last time. “I time travelled back here so that I can get my parents together. Now I’ve got to do that, and get my boyfriend back all before Friday.”

“So…Marie is your mother?” he asks, biting his lip in anticipation.

“No. Renee is my mother.”

“So…Marie is available, then?” James says, looking immediately relieved.

I blink. So, he really was interested in Marie… “Yes,” I say slowly. “Very.”

“What’s her number, Bella?” he asks.

I sigh. “Really, Beaufort?” I ask. “You can’t wait twenty-one years?”

“No,” he says. He takes out his I.D. and shows it to me. It clearly says that he is eighteen, not twenty-one. “I’ve got to have her number, Bella. Please. When you were talking with Renee, your mom, the other day, I don’t know… It was totally mind-blowing, I… We just sort of, clicked, Isabella…”

I sigh. “Just Bella,” I whisper. “Keep that information to yourself, thank you. And Marie isn’t my twin sister, she’s my second cousin. And if you’re really serious about being eighteen years old—” I say, grinning as I mockingly attempt to peek at his I.D. again.

“I am, I am!” he cries, thrusting it at me.

“Fine.” I step forward and whisper, “Its 206-555-7178. Do you think that you can remember all that, Beaufort?”

He quickly writes it down. “Yes.”

“Good,” I say. “Now, I am ready to leave this godforsaken hellhole.”


	22. Band Practice

I am back at school with Renee the following day; my black eyes mere bruises by this point, and my eyes fully able to open. I was allowed to remove the cast on my hand and foot and, but for a small scar where they removed some tissue from my hip to stitch up my hand, my hand looked perfect. I will forever have a scar on both hand and foot, but I vow to wear them proudly for the rest of my life for I know I helped save Edward.

Back at school, I don’t really see any sign of Kate, but Charlie just constantly says how glad he is that I’m okay. The way he says it, it sounds like he is speaking to one of his children, as opposed to just a random relation.

I get Mr. Black to allow me and Renee be a duet at the dance. I am just glad that my voice wasn’t taken away. It was scratchy and a bit off-key at first, but after a bit of practice, Renee and I sounded Spring Fling worthy. Being that the dance was just four days away, she and I had much to do. We had to figure out what to sing, and what to wear… It was clearly a never ending process on the road to dance beauty.

Marie was more than willing to assist me and Renee with the clothes, hair, and makeup for the night of the dance. I just hoped, even though Edward was still missing, that Renee would be able to wow Charlie just enough at the dance so as Jasper could be adopted, and I would be born. I knew that this was our last hope, as it would be suspicious to everyone if I hung around until prom.

I firmly decided that Renee was in desperate need to shine that evening, so as Charlie would have to look at her at all costs. There was not a moment to lose when it came right down to it, so after Renee had finished her homework that evening, Marie, Renee, and I looked through a Frederick & Nelson catalog. Marie insisted that the company that had closed four years before my birth had the hottest things for formal occasions. I nodded in assent and knew that Renee did need only the best.

Renee decided to wear a red dress—strapless, totally able to shape her figure —and I allowed Marie to give her pointers on her makeup and hair. I half-heartedly picked out a strapless black dress that would come up an inch or two above my knee. I told Bella to do whatever she wanted with my hair and makeup, because I suddenly wasn’t feeling like I was in the preppy dressing up mood at all. All I needed was Edward.

There must have been something to do, but I had no clue where to begin. I knew that Marie had promised to give me her necklace as a last resort if mine couldn’t be fixed. Mine was due back from the shop by Thursday, and I would wear it to the Spring Fling as planned. My knees felt like jelly as I considered singing with Charlie and the Swans at the dance in just a few days’ time. I didn’t think it would ever come, and I hoped that was the case.

On Wednesday, Renee got dropped off by Marie at the regular start time at school, but I had decided to wait until eighth period, band practice, to arrive. Marie was constantly busy speaking to Beaufort on the phone now, and they’d decided to go out for pizza on Friday. He would be picking up, so Renee and I would be taking Marie’s car to the dance.

I left shortly before one-thirty so as to make the class on time. I got behind the wheel of Marie’s car and drove off to the school. It would only be a journey of ten minutes or so, yet the pattering rain on the windshield didn’t help. I was sure to pull up the canvas convertible top so as not to get the leather interior, or myself, wet from the rain.

It was so difficult to see through the windshield, as my vision seemed to be constantly obliterated by a steamy, watery feeling. I soon found that I was sobbing, so I pulled over. It was only about one twenty-seven, so I had a little time to freak out. I rocked back and forth in the front seat, and I realized that I was having an anxiety attack. I was screaming and sobbing and hitting the steering wheel and cursing myself.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go on much longer like this, and I came to the conclusion that I didn’t just love Edward; no, not just love. I really was madly in love with him. I just needed him with me again, and I didn’t know how long that would take to come to pass, but I knew the relief wouldn’t be immediate, for part of me wondered if I should accept the fact that he could potentially be gone forever.

I banished that thought from my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to think that way, I realized that now. I sighed and looked in the rearview mirror, and noticed that my face was puffy, my eyes were red, and I had really done a number on my mascara. I sighed and took out a cotton ball from the bag, and used my tears as water to get the mascara off my face. I reapplied it with ease, and then put a little more blush around my eyes to disguise the fact that I had been crying.

I turned on the car and the radio came on.

“It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you…”

I hastily pulled out of the side of the road, and I tried to ignore _Africa_ by Toto playing on the radio.

_…restless longing…_

_Yeah, you’ve got that right_ , I think to myself as I somehow manage to navigate my way carefully though the rain. I switch stations, and Elton John is singing _Empty Garden_ , which really doesn’t help matters…

_And I’ve been knocking, but no one answers… And I’ve been knocking most of the day…_

It takes me seven and a half minutes to get to the school, and I pull the borrowed rain coat from Marie closer to me. I put the hood up and selected a parking spot, and then make my way inside. It is about one thirty-eight, exactly two minutes before band class begins.

I make my way to the arts hallway and soon I am in the band room. I hang up my raincoat on the hook, and then cross to where Renee and Charlie are in deep conversation. I smile and greet them, and, after a quick hello and asking after my well-being, Charlie excuses himself to go tune his guitar. I turn to Renee, who is looking flushed and excited.

“What?” I ask, attempting to smile.

“Charlie asked if I was going to the dance.”

I raise my eyebrows at that, amazed that my father was taking an interest in my mother. “But, he knows you are. You’re singing back-up with me, remember?”

“I know. I guess he forgot or something.”

“Oh. What else did he say?”

“When I told him ‘Yes’, he said, ‘I guess I’ll see you there. When we take a break, save a dance for me’.”

I smile at her. “Slowly but surely,” I say softly. I get the signal from Charlie that it’s time to start, so I cross to the stage and get behind the mike. “ _Woman in Love_ by Barbra Streisand,” I tell him shortly. I motion for Renee, and cover up the microphone so as we can speak semi-privately. “Do you know this song?” I whisper to her in a moment of urgency.

She nods. “Yes.”

“Get the other mic then,” I tell her. “You’re singing back-up. It’s the chorus,” I tell her helpfully with a smile.  
  
“Life is a moment in space  
When the dream is gone  
It’s a lonelier place  
  


I kiss the morning good-bye  
But down inside you know  
We never know why  
  
The road is narrow and long  
When eyes meet eyes  
And the feeling is strong  
  


I turn away from the wall  
I stumble and fall  
But I give you it all  
  


I am a woman in love  
And I’d do anything  
To get you into my world  
And hold you within  
  


It’s a right I defend  
Over and over again  
What do I do?  
With you eternally mine  
In love there is  
No measure of time  
  


They planned it all at the start  
That you and I  
Live in each other’s heart  
  
We may be oceans away  
You feel my love  
I hear what you say  
  


No truth is ever a lie  
I stumble and fall  
But I give you it all  
  
I am a woman in love  
And I’d do anything  
To get you into my world  
And hold you within  
  


It’s a right I defend  
Over and over again  
What do I do?  
  
I am a woman in love  
And I’m talkin’ to you  
You know how you feel  
What a woman can do  
  


It’s a right I defend  
Over and over again  
  
I am a woman in love  
And I’d do anything  
To get you into my world  
And hold you within  
  


It’s a right I defend  
Over and over again  
What do I do?”  
  


Mr. Black has come out of his office and has a strange look on his face. It is gone in an instant and he is clapping along with the rest of them. He tells us that that would be a good song to sing at the dance. He also says that, since Renee and I sound so good together, we should also consider singing some ABBA at the dance as well. He then selects Charlie and Axel to sing back up for ABBA songs, if we decide to go that way, and leaves.

I turn to Renee. “ABBA?” I ask.

She nods. She goes to the back room to get some song books and comes back with a few of them. “We’ve got to sing _Dancing Queen_ ,” she says, pointing to it.

I read the lyrics and nod. “Oh, them!” I say. “They’re Swedish, right?” I ask, my eyebrows coming together.

Renee nods. “Want to try it?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” says Renee efficiently. “Dex, why don’t you play keyboard for this one?” she asks him with a smile.

“ _Dancing Queen_ ,” I say, plastering on a smile and getting behind a mic and watch as Renee does the same thing.  
  
“You can dance, you can jive  
Having the time of your life  
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene  
Diggin’ the dancing queen  
  


Friday night and the lights are low  
Looking out for a place to go  
Where they play the right music, getting in the swing  
You come in to look for a king  
  


Anybody could be that guy  
Night is young and the music’s high  
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine  
You’re in the mood for a dance  
  


And when you get the chance  
You are the dancing queen  
Young and sweet, only seventeen  
  


Dancing queen, feel the beat  
From the tambourine, oh yeah  
You can dance, you can jive  
Having the time of your life  
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene  
Diggin’ the dancing queen  
  


You’re a teaser, you turn ‘em on  
Leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone  
Looking out for another, anyone will do  
You’re in the mood for a dance  
And when you get the chance  
  


You are the dancing queen  
Young and sweet, only seventeen  
Dancing queen, feel the beat  
From the tambourine, oh yeah  
  


You can dance, you can jive  
Having the time of your life  
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene  
Diggin’ the dancing queen  
Diggin’ the dancing queen…”

“So,” Renee says when we’ve finally managed to finish, “let’s discuss the line-up for the Fling on Friday.”

“ _Why Do Fools Fall in Love_ ,” Charlie says, nodding.

“ _Dancing Queen_ , definitely,” Axel says.

“ _Knowing Me, Knowing You_ would be good,” Dex chimes in. “ _One of Us_ , _Take a Chance on Me_ , _Mamma Mia_ , _Waterloo_ , and I think Bella should solo _The Winner Takes It All_.”

“Excuse me?” I ask. “Solo?”

“Yeah,” says Dex. “And we have to do Newton-John’s _Physical_. It’s just so in-demand right now, you know?”

“But…solo? Me?” I press.

“Yes,” says Charlie. “You’ve got _it_. You’re that damn good, and we’ve got to show these people how good you are.”

“And Renee?” I ask.

Charlie nods. “She’ll be singing back-up on _Fools_ and you’ll be duet-ing with her on every ABBA song. _Physical_ can be Renee’s solo.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “All right,” I say. “Let’s get rockin’.”

. . .

Mr. Black asks to talk to me as soon as band practice is over and I head to his office in a very willing manner. He tells me to sit across from him and I do so, feeling totally at ease and comfortable with the guy. He stares at me briefly before leaning forward, resting his fists beneath his chin.

“Marie, I just wanted to say, you were right on with the songs today,” he says to me, and flashes a perfect smile.

I return the smile, basking in the glow of his compliment. After the last few days, I’ve been unable to really focus on anything at all. The band had been helping, as well as his constant encouragement towards me during, before, and after sessions. “Thank you, Mr. Black. That really means a lot coming from you.”

He continues to smile at me. “You seemed a little distracted at the beginning of class but you managed to pull it together.” Are you feeling all right? Not coming down with something like laryngitis are you?”

I laugh a little at that. “No, of course not. Just a lot on my mind. I don’t know if you noticed that Edward was missing from band practice today.”

Mr. Black quickly busies himself with looking through various stacks of papers on his desk—it is odd to see a teacher’s desk without a computer. “Yes, I did notice that,” he says, checking the lineup list of Charlie and the Swans for Spring Fling. “I just assumed he’d dropped the idea of playing at the dance, considering he doesn’t attend this school.”

“But _I_ don’t attend this school, Mr. Black,” I replied. _At least, not yet_ , I said to myself. “I don’t attend this school, and yet you asked me to perform with Charlie and the Swans, so technically it’s the same difference.”

“No, it’s not!” he yells at me then, growing impatient, as he suddenly slams his hand down unceremoniously onto his desk, his eyes blazing. “You’re special, Marie! You’ve got genuine, raw talent here! Plus you’re Charlie’s cousin, and he’s one of the best musicians we have in the program. You’re different than your cousin, Marie. He’s just going to throw away that talent that he has and is going to Columbia to study to be a doctor.”

I cross my arms at that statement, trying my best to ignore his sudden outburst and to convincingly sweep it under the rug. “I think my d—cousin could make a very good doctor, Mr. Black,” I reply.

He waves that away. “Yes, Marie, of course he would make a _good_ doctor. Many individuals with the right education can make a _good_ anything. However, Charlie is the prime example of someone who plays it safe.”

My eyebrows knit together. “A prime example of someone who plays it safe?” I ask, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Playing it safe entails doing exactly what mommy and daddy tell you to do and not taking risks,” Mr. Black replies. “From what I’ve heard, Marie, you’re a risk-taker.”

I shrug. “I don’t know…”

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, actually,” Mr. Black replies, and I lock eyes with his, and wonder then if he is talking about me or my cousin. “Caught sitting on a teacher’s lap, and later convinced the school board that it was nothing?” he goes on, sitting on the corner of his desk and putting his face closer to mine. “That took guts, you know.”

I feel sick in the pit of my stomach. I was sure that he was making this up. Marie wouldn’t do something that stupid, would she…? “I don’t think…”

“And that nun’s outfit,” he says, trying not to laugh, turning to go into his massive file cabinet and takes out an article.

On _The Seattle Times_ , the heading reads, _High School Girl Tells All: The Teacher/Student Lap-Sitting Was Innocent_. There is a further heading below reads: _Teacher Found Innocent; Reinstated At Local High School_. I feel my eyes widening at the picture of Marie, who is speaking directly to the court in what I assume is in a passionate manner.

I feel as if I am going to vomit. I don’t know what to do. I know that I’ve got to get out of there, but I’m not sure how. I know that I will never mention this to anyone—it is not knowledge that I should have been privy to in any normal and everyday circumstances whatsoever. Knowing exactly what Mr. Black wants, a repetition of something my cousin did, I know I have to run.

Quickly getting to my feet, I make a run for the open door and make it. I run through the band room and out into the school hallway. I take the most direct route to the parking lot possible and fumble for the car keys as I get into the car and slam the door behind me. I manage to make it two blocks before I start to hyperventilate, and soon find myself pulling off to the side of the road. I get into a fetal position and begin to sob.


	23. Call Me Your Own

I find that I am numb after band practice the following afternoon, and fought tooth and nail not to make eye contact with Black. It is now Thursday, and the countdown until the dance has officially begun. I find myself voluntarily staring out the car window and not taking part in Renee’s justified hype about the dance, or Marie’s clear and annoying excitement about her first official date with Beaufort. Marie turns on the radio, and what comes on sends tears coming out my eyes.

The words enter that bottomless pit that is my stomach, and I cannot stop ingesting them, nor hearing them. They are branded onto my brain now, and I know full well that there is nothing I can do to stop it. _The wild dogs cry out in the night, as they grow restless longing for some solitary company…_ _  
_

I hastily lean forward and shut of the radio. I can see Renee and Marie regarding each other in a moment of mutual confusion. It’s almost as if they’ve never seen a girl with a broken heart before. I want to curl up in a ball on my seat and give in to an anxiety attack, but I find that I am numb, unable to move at all. I sit, mute, for the rest of the journey.

When we arrive at Frederick & Nelson, I get out of the car and follow Renee and Marie inside the store. We make our way to the dress department and tell the kind-looking salesladies there to serve us what the occasion is and what we will obviously need for it.

I allow a raven-haired saleswoman, whose name is Tia, take me for a look around. I look and look at all the dresses around me, feeling overwhelmed completely by color and style. I finally see a black dress with what I affectionately like to call fettuccine straps. It has a deep oval neckline that ends in a small point and a skirt that will reach just above my knee. Tia measures me and finds the proper size of the dress.

“Will you be wanting some pantyhose, shoes, and jewelry?” she asks.

I nod, wanting a distraction— _any_ distraction. “Yes. Black pantyhose; I’m a size eight—black heels, please; and maybe a simple gold collar-type thing… Like, Cleopatra,” I say, hoping she will understand what I’m talking about.

Tia nods. “I think I have just the thing,” she says. She leaves me alone with the dress until she returns with everything that I’ve asked for. She also has a key to a dressing room in her hand, and we walk to the back of the store together. She lets me in and asks if I would like assistance. I say yes and she shuts the door behind her and advances towards me.

I undress by myself and she hold the dress out. She carefully balls it up slightly and puts it over my head and manages to get it over my wide hips. She is able to straighten the skirt with no problem, and zips up the seemingly low back without incident.

I notice the look on her face as I put on the pantyhose myself and step into the shoes with ease—she doesn’t think I’m pretty either. I brush off the thought and allow her to put on the gold collar. I ask her pointers on hair and makeup, and she is surprised, but delighted to help in any way that she can. She directs me to Carmen, the woman there who is in charge of such things. I nod and dig into my purse, handing her two hundred dollars, and Tia tells me that she will return with my change.

She returns with a twenty and I hand her my clothes to be wrapped in tissue paper and put into a bag. She smiles as we swap money for clothes and I follow her out to the check stand. Renee is there, too, along with Bella. Renee has a bright green dress—I guess she decided against red—and black heels like mine, and has pearls instead of a gold collar.

Marie also has clothes—all black leather. She also has a silver spiked collar. I guess Beaufort likes them rebellious and naughty.

We all head to Carmen’s after we pay for our clothes, jewelry, and shoes. We go downstairs and soon are standing in front of an elaborate makeup counter. I advance forward and ask for Carmen. A curvaceous woman in her mid-thirties comes out and flashes a friendly smile. She introduces herself as Carmen, the owner of the counter. She has beautiful black hair, which is pulled back to show her attractive face, and I suddenly feel at least a little bit happy and more at ease with Carmen.

“What can I do for you lovely ladies this afternoon?” she asks.

“It’s Spring Fling,” I tell her with a smile.

“Of course,” Carmen says with a smile. “Now, then, what’s your name?”

“Bella,” I say, so as not to confuse things with Marie and me.

“Bella…?”

“Bella Swan,” I say quickly.

“And that must be your twin sister, huh?” asks Carmen.

I nod. “Yes. That’s Marie.”

Carmen smiles at her. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Renee,” she replies. “I’m their…friend.”

Carmen nods at us. “Victoria! Irina!” she calls, and two girls come out from the back with bright smiles. “Victoria, why don’t you see to Renee, and Irina, you take Marie. I’ll take Bella.”

I give Carmen a winning smile and she directs me to a black leather chair nearby. I climb up onto it, and Carmen tucks my other purchases into a shelf beside me. I am at ease for just a moment.

“So, do you have a date?” she asks.

I sigh. “My boyfriend is currently MIA,” I say softly.

Carmen frowns. “I’m sorry; boys really do need to learn how to behave sometimes,” she says in a sincere voice. “So you’re going to the dance solo, then?”

“Somewhat,” I say. “I mean, I’m not bringing my parents or anything.”

She laughs at that turns on the light attached to her mirror. “So what will you be doing at the dance?” she wants to know, her voice pleasant. Carmen gently ties back my hair into a bun so as she is able to get a good look at my face. She gently washes it with a moist towelette and gets all my mother makeup off of me from earlier that afternoon.

“Singing lead in the band,” I reply.

“Very nice,” she says. “You sing? So do I.”

I nod. “That’s nice.”

She puts several products on my face and soon I am smelling like some high quality magazine ad. She dusts my face with foundation and then paints me with all the colors of her rainbow pallet. I am soon a vision of makeup delight, and she puts all the products into the bag for me and, after giving her fifty bucks, I am sent on my way with Renee and Marie.

We decide that, given that we have four hours after school the following day, we will get mani-pedi’s and our hair done then, so as not to chip or ruin anything in the process of the long day at school tomorrow. We decide to rent a movie that night and order a pizza, and I am suddenly reminded of my last night at home with Alice.


	24. The Dance

The following afternoon, I went over the final lineup with Charlie and the Swans for the songs I would be singing later that evening. I made sure that Renee didn’t tell anyone about what she would be wearing, so as the element of surprise would be on our side that night. I surprised myself by suggesting that Charlie sing _Africa_ with Dex and Axel in order to heat things up for the opening number. I was equally surprised when they agreed.

Renee and I got out of there after two that day—two-twenty as usual—and went to the parking lot to Marie’s car. I got behind the wheel and waited for Renee to get inside and buckled in before I put the key in the ignition. I put on my seat belt and stuck the key into the slot before pulling out of the parking space and out of the parking lot.

We drove to the beauty salon where we had appointments and went inside. It didn’t take long to check in and confirm our three-thirty appointments before we left the place and went to go get drinks at the coffee shop next door. We each got caramel mochas and raspberry scones and sat down to wait. We chattered about the lineup that evening, and about how Renee was so pumped at the obvious flirting from Charlie’s end.

I smiled and nodded along with her as I sipped my mocha and chewed my scone in an absentminded manner. I didn’t want to think about the dance. All I wanted was Edward, and how he couldn’t be with me, leaving the bits of fruit within the scone to taste sour in my mouth. I counted that we’d been here fourteen days, and fingered my repaired necklace around my throat. I also had Marie’s tucked away in my pocket for emergencies. Part of me wanted to wish for Edward’s location, or just to wish that he was here with me, but I wasn’t planning on cutting any corners in my pursuit of getting him back.

We returned to the beauty salon in the next thirty minutes and were ushered into the hair area first. I’d asked for a shampoo and conditioner wash, and then for it to be trimmed and highlighted with golden streaks to match my collar. It was good that my hair was dark brown, so that the streaks would be clear under the spotlight. I was put into a chair and told to lean back into a black sink, which did not make me nervous at all.

I leaned back like I was told, and shut my eyes at the sensation of the hot water flowing through my hair and onto my scalp. The woman used a shampoo and conditioner combo that smelled of vanilla and seemed to stimulate my nasal passages. She massaged my scalp with her sure and quick fingers which relieved much of the stress that flowed through me so much of late. She gently pulled a comb through my hair before the rinse cycle, so as there would be no pain in the brushing later.

Then I was asked to go onto a proper sitting position where she pulled the comb through my hair again. She used the comb with one hand and a pair of shiny silver scissors in the other to snip away my split ends. Then she blow-dried my hair so that it sat fluffy and full of curls an inch or so below my shoulders, as opposed to halfway down my back like before. She then tells me to stand up and to stretch for a minute while she goes to get the foil which will contain the dye for the streaks.

I stretch for a moment and manage to pop my back. It sends a wave of pleasure up and down my spine and even into my legs and neck. I return to my seat when I see her coming back with the dye and the foil. She begins the process of the dipping and the sticking and the forming and whatnot on my hair, and is very precise and careful throughout.

She then hands me a magazine with Michael Jackson on the cover, that makes me do a double take as it is him in the 80’s. I smile and thank her and try not to reveal his actual death date or any other information. I see then that Renee has spruced up her color—it is more chocolate brown than golden-brown now, and she does look very nice.

Next come our mani-pedi’s and we each opt for colors that match our new dresses and eyeshadows. We preen momentarily, loving the notion that on this night, we will both look beautiful. With our makeup and outfits at home, we are totally Spring Fling ready.

It is almost five when we’re finished and we hastily pay the women thirty dollars each before running to the car. I check out myself in the mirror—hair straight until the beautiful, thick curls at the bottom. With my dress and makeup, I will almost be a knockout that evening. Renee looks very nice as well, and I’m very glad that Marie’s date isn’t until seven, so as she will have time to assist us in getting ready.

We arrive back at Marie’s place and she immediately claps her hands as what has been done to us at the beauty parlor. Then she pushes us into her bedroom and begins to order us playfully around. We sit on my bed and are made to strip before we are made to put on our pantyhose—without chipping our bright red nails or making holes with our bright red toenails.

Marie assists us with getting our dresses on without any tearing mishaps or anything like that. I make sure that my skirt is hanging correctly and that I haven’t messed up my hair before I tell Marie that I am fine and that she should focus on Renee. I fasten my gold collar around my neck, and silently make the wish that I wish that my necklaces’ jewel could somehow become a part of my new collar, and, miraculously, it becomes part of it.

I put on the foundation, blush, lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, and soon my makeup is complete. My lipstick is called Desiderio, which means wish or desire in Italian, and is a bright, attractive red. This way, everyone will be focused on my lips when I sing, so everything worked out in this way, I suppose. I quickly try not to cry when I think that Edward won’t be able to share this evening with me.

Marie sees my face and fixes me with a look. “Mascara,” she says quietly. I nod and quickly calm down so as I won’t cry.

Half an hour later, exactly fifteen minutes before we’re due to arrive, making it five forty-five, Renee and I wave goodbye to Marie. I am behind the wheel of her car, and I am in control one hundred percent. I give her a smile, mentally wishing her luck, and she nods at me. Renee and I soon leave University Park area and are soon at Tempus High School. Renee and I make for the band hallway and are soon greeted by Charlie, Dex, and Axel.

We are lightly flirted with—although Charlie is respectful and doesn’t flirt with me, and for that I’m glad—before we decide to do a practice session. The boys quickly go through _Africa_ , and then we do _Fools_ , _Dancing Queen_ , and two others before Mr. Black gives us the five minute cue. We discuss certain things for about three minutes and then Mr. Black tells us that we had better get into our places now.

We walk out of the band room through a side door which leads to the stage, and see the drum set and keyboard, which Dex will play; two guitars, one each for Axel and Dex; and two mikes for Renee and me. The navy blue curtain is still down, yet we all of us are starting to hear the sound of teenagers milling around and talking behind it. It quickly manages to send a series of goosebumps down my arm where Renee and I are standing in the wings, as we will not be singing in the first song.

I hear some high heels behind me and, upon turning around, see Kate coming into the stage area. She gawks at the sights of us, then makes her face almost completely impassive as she takes the stage. She goes up in a triumphant manner to where Charlie is, tuning his guitar, and leans in to kiss him.

“Hey, baby,” she says, and manages to pull him to the opposite side of the stage for some privacy.

I reach to my throat, fingering the jewel of the necklace slightly. “I wish I could hear what they’re saying,” I whisper.

“Yeah, hey,” Charlie replies, turning and looking at Renee in the darkness.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re looking at?!” Kate demands, grabbing ahold of Charlie’s chin and pulling it so as his eyes are on her. “You were looking at Renee, weren’t you? Well, I won’t have it.” She then forms one of her hands into a fist and brings it up so that its eye-level to him. “You see this?” she hisses through her teeth. “You remember what happens when you do something that’s not allowed, right?”

Charlie lowers his eyes, so much so that I feel as if I have to do something; I’ve never seen my dad act like this—meek and obedient. I mean, yeah, he did what my mom told him to do sometimes, but marriage was a two-way street. You have to listen to one another and come up with a resolution together to solve any given problem that you encounter.

“No,” Charlie says, looking at her with eyes like stone.

Kate doubles back for a moment, blinking innocently and her mannerisms at once becoming sugary sweet. “Excuse me?” she asks in that annoying, high-pitched voice of hers.

“No,” Charlie says firmly.

“But…but…”

“Stop,” Charlie says firmly, reaching out and forcefully moving her fist back down so that it’s in its normal position. “It’s over, Kate. This should never have even begun, because you’re rude, shallow, and a total narcissist— _everything_ , and I mean everything has to be the way you want it, and all about you. It’s not cool, Kate. You were rude more than once to Bella, and you freaking broke her nose for Christ sakes! I should have known then, like I do now, that you’re not for me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.”

“And now?” she asks pathetically, looking like some vulnerable, wounded animal in a field or something.

“And now, I know that there is someone else who cares as much about me as I do her, and I should have seen it a long time ago.” He looks at Renee briefly, gives her a smile, but then quickly turns back to Kate. “We’re done, Kate—you need help. Go and find someone else to be a punching bag.”

Kate turns as scarlet as her dress and immediately turns away; she doesn’t look guilty, but afraid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, no?” demands Charlie. He lifts up his shirt, and his chest is riddled up with numerous bruises—purple, blue, yellow—at least two dozen if not more. “I should have stopped it when this happened, Kate.”

Kate goes white and proceeds to reach for him in the darkness. “You know I didn’t mean it, Charlie, I— I’ll do better, I’ll change. It’ll be different,” she whispers to him, and I can hear the tears in her voice. “I didn’t mean it…”

“You sure as hell meant it when you did it,” he growls back at her, his eyes blazing with a sudden burst of anger. “We’re done, over!”

Kate steps back and departs the stage, walking past the both of us with a special glare for each, and knocks into us before she whips around. “This is all your fault!” she shouts at me.

“My fault?!” I demand. “What the hell did I do?! You’re the nose-breaker here, Kate, and now Charlie is a heartbreaker. But you never did have a heart underneath all that makeup and fakeness, did you?” I put out my bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” I say sarcastically.

Kate looks as if she will slap me or claw my face, but she notices the stage crew is made up of muscled guys and steps back. She lets out a pathetic whine/shout before stamping her heeled foot and running out of there.

Renee and I turn to see Charlie, giving a “good riddance” look after Kate. He then sighs for a moment and nods to himself, a free man. Then, raising his eyes again, he casts a look across the stage at me, a small grin on his face and shrugs before his eyes move to Renee. He sighs again; this time, it is a sigh of lust and not regret or resentment.

“Should I go talk to him?” Renee asks me quietly.

I smile, but find that I am shaking my head at her. “He clearly wants you, but let him be the one to come to you.”

She nods. “I will.”


	25. Edward’s Return

Charlie, Axel, and Dex start with _Africa_ , which totally and completely brings down the house full of teenagers. They start _Why Do Fools Fall In Love_ , and Renee and I take the stage. I get behind my mic for my cue to begin.

“Ooh wah, ooh wah,” I begin, and then their attention is mine. Everyone is dancing and having a grand old time, and suddenly I don’t feel so alone in the world of cheering fans around me, although there is one man I’d love more than anything to be by my side again. “Why do birds sing so gay?” I say, acting as if they may have the answer to the question.

I keep going, constantly asking the question. When the song ends, I give them the cue that I’m ready for _Dancing Queen_. Dex moves the keyboard so as his access will be easier. He plays the opening chord, and I check to see that Renee is just as prepared as I am.

“Ooh, you can dance; you can jive, having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl; watch that scene, diggin’ the dancing queen,” I begin, with Renee perfectly harmonizing with me, as if we have one voice and two throats. “Friday night and the lights are low, lookin’ out for a place to go…”

We finish _Dancing Queen_ , _Mamma Mia_ , and _One of Us_ before Charlie tells the students that we will be taking a break. They applaud us and then Charlie presses a button to a massive radio, and _Africa_ plays for the umpteenth time in my life, and I use all my strength not to ruin my mascara in front of everyone. We all of us go backstage and Axel and Dex excuse themselves to go to the bathroom, and Charlie asks to talk to Renee. I give her the thumbs up and go out to one of the many courtyards to be alone.

I sit down on a bench and sigh to myself.

“Feeling all right?”

I turn around then and see Mr. Black standing there. I quickly nod, hoping that that will make him leave. “Yes,” I reply, hoping against hope that my delivery was not shaky or awkward in any way.

“Well, we’re lucky to have you here,” he tells me then. “It’s too bad Edward has been absent these past few days.”

“Yes,” I say in a clipped tone, wanting very much to pull down my skirt and pull up the top of my dress.

“He’s a wonderful player, and the band is certainly lacking without them, but, of course, you knew that.”

I shrug. “I guess.”

He comes to sit beside me. “Do you miss him?”

“Yes, of course I do…”

“Do you love him?”

Color manages to intrude upon my cheeks and suddenly I feel as if I am at my maximum of uncomfortability. “Um, I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Mr. Black,” I say, still attempting to remain polite.

“So?” he asks.

I sigh. “What does it matter to you? I’m the cousin of one of your students, you know. Whether or not I love someone is none of your concern.”

He smiles, putting an arm around my bare shoulders, which sends chills—and not the good kind—up and down my spine. “And what if I told you that you really had something—the raw talent that you and I were just talking about the other day? That three little words could get you a job in Hollywood or on Broadway? I have connections, you know.”

I feel incredibly uncomfortable. “Are you implying, sir, that, after nearly two weeks after meeting you, that I simply drop everything and proclaim my love for you?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps I do.”

“I’m sixteen, Mr. Black.”

“I’m only thirty-one. What does age matter?”

“Everything!” I cry, managing to get to my feet. I feel immense relief when his hand falls off of me. “I don’t even know you.”

His hand follows my body. “I could change that, my dear,” he says, getting to his feet and advancing towards me.

“Just what do you think you’re you doing?” I demand.

And then he is kissing me and I am trying and failing to get him off of me. I am pushing on him, but that only seems to make him want me more. He has me up against a wall of the courtyard, and opens the door behind it, all the while kissing me so as I cannot even remotely scream for help. He reaches underneath my skirt and proceeds to attempt to feel beneath it, and I instantly take my heel of my shoe and shove it up in between his legs.

Mr. Black doesn’t take too kindly to that. He shoves me and holds me against the building’s wall while he fiddles with a set of keys. He is finally able to wretch the door open and throw me inside. He slams it shut behind him and locks it, so that I am alone in blackness.

I stand, my ankle nearly buckling under me, and run in what I believe is the direction of the door. “Let me out, you low life creep!” I scream, pounding on the door. “You jerk! This is kidnapping and you know it!”

“Bella?”

I turn at the sound in the dark. I could know that voice anywhere—just as anyone in my own situation could’ve done. “Edward?” I whisper, stretching out my hands and forcing myself not to fall over or even to stumble. “Where are you?”

“Where are you?” he asks.

I walk towards the voice and keep my hands stretched out so as I can better get a sense of the room. “Listen, I’m walking,” I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes and making it even more difficult to see. “I’m trying to find you…” Finally, against all odds I am touching skin, and his arms are immediately around me as mine are around him. “Edward, Edward, Edward,” I whisper, feeling warm tears running down my face.

“Bella,” he whispers.

I pull back. “What happened?”

“Well,” he says, pulling a chord so that a bare light bulb which bathes the both of us in some light, “I was in the hospital, and Black came in, claiming to be my father. I don’t know what made the hospital staff believe him or anything like that, because he doesn’t look like me, or have my last name. No matter what I said or did, they made me leave with him… You look so beautiful, by the way,” he says with a smile.

“Forget my appearance,” I say, shaking my head at him. “But thank you. So, are you telling me that he kidnapped you?”

Edward nods. “Yes. He didn’t say why, though.”

“He told me in not so many words just now,” I say in a grumble. “He started to the other day, but I got away. Needless to say, he felt the need to continue to hint at just how much he wanted from me tonight…”

“What do you mean?” he says, his eyes angry.

“The other day, he showed me a newspaper article with Bella, who sat on a teacher’s lap and claimed that it was innocent.” I lower my eyes in shame. “I think he wanted me to sit on his lap so he could do god knows what to me…”

Edward pushes my chin up. “He didn’t…”

“No…I managed to get away…” I sigh. “Although he did pretty much assaulted me out there and practically begged me to proclaim my love for him, then he’d get me a job in L.A. or New York or something of that nature.”

“Did he kiss you?”

I nod. “Yes.”

He sighs. “Wow.”

“I would have thought you’d have been angry.”

“Why?”

I blink, confused. “What’s the last thing that you remember before the hospital?” I ask him. “I mean, do you even remember why we were there?”

“Wait, you were in the hospital, too?”

I nod at him. “Yes, I was.”

He shakes his head. “The last thing that I remember is that you and I were going to look for Marie and you had said that based on something I said that I had to come up with a better reason for asking how you felt about me or something like that.”

“Oh,” I say. “That.”

“Do you remember what it was?”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“Could you tell me, Bella? Please.”

“You really don’t remember?”

He shakes his head. “No. but I’d give anything to know. I mean, come on, Bella, you probably know already.”

“What do I know?” I ask.

“That I’ve been in love with you ever since you and Alice were in preschool together,” he replies, and I cock an eyebrow at that thought. “Okay, that sounded weird, but you know what I meant… Okay, this’ll sound better… When you were thirteen and I was almost fifteen at the end-of-the-year party and we were in the closet and we kissed. And then all those times we kissed here, and when we…”

I lean in and kiss him. “Does that answer your question?”

He smiles. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes. I love you.”

“You love me?”

I nod, no longer caring about my mascara. Tears fall from my eyes and I bit my lip, more than likely destroying my lipstick. “I love you, Edward Cullen. I really love you, and I never told you because I thought that you and Rosalie might be a thing, and about how there’s no way in hell that someone like you could ever be into someone like me, and…”

Edward smiles at me. “I love you, too, Bella Swan.”

“You really love me?” I whisper. It was always a mind-bending moment whenever he uttered those words.

He nods. “Read my lips,” he says softly, bending his head and pressing his mouth to mine.


	26. Wishes

There is a skylight in the room that Mr. Black has imprisoned us in, and there are also a great many tables and chairs scattered around. We place the tallest desk directly below the skylight, and then a classroom chair on top of the desk. Edward stands carefully on the chair, and then he picks me up, and I reach out with both hands, and somehow I am able to move the glass aside. I then get down and Edward hoists himself up and then leans down to grab me. It is not an easy job, but we’ve got to get out of there.

I am shivering in the moonlight, and Edward wraps his arms around me. I stare at him in the darkness, and he kisses me again, sending a rare warmth through me then. “Edward…” I whisper.

“What is it?” he asks.

“I really don’t know what is going to happen if we don’t get my parents together tonight. I mean, Charlie ended it with Kate, but you know her.”

“I’ll tell you, she’s one determined bitch.”

“You’ve got that right,” I tell him, leaning into him. It is then that I see him in his hospital gown. I chuckle a bit and shake my head. “We’ve got to sneak into the drama department and get you a suit of some kind.”

There is a ladder on the side of the roof so we climb down and find ourselves in front of the school. We go in the front door and make our way to the band hallway and then to the stage door. We take the door just next to it, which leads into the drama room. We then go out the door and down the drama hallway, and we stick our heads out to make sure that nobody is looking. Once making sure that the coast is clear, we head in the direction of the costume room, which is, thankfully, deserted.

There are pieces of tape attached to each and every article of clothing, and I tell Edward to look for shirts and jackets, while I will take pants and shoes. I find a pair of black suit pants in his exact size, and even a black leather belt to match them. I then go to the shoes, and find some shiny black leather ones that are just perfect. We meet up in the center of the room, and he has even found a black tie for himself, and he goes behind the wicker screen to rid himself of his hospital gown and get on the suit and stuff.

We then return to the band hallway and went inside the band room and to the door leading to the stage. Once there, we open the door, and are suddenly stopped by a beautiful voice singing _The Winner Takes It All_. I hold Edward back as we watch Renee wowing both Charlie and the whole student body and such with her words. She doesn’t even need back up, and although it was supposed to be my solo, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I hold Edward’s hand and watch as I realize then, for the first time, that Renee, my mother, has found her place. Once the song is over, Charlie sets aside his guitar, crosses over to her, and takes her hand. And then the students are rewarded with a public kiss. I gasp and suddenly I feel as if I am whole again. I clap my hands and scream their names.

Renee turns and looks for me. She is grinning and runs towards me, her face flushed. “You go sing something,” she urges.

“Really, Renee, I…”

“Go!” she cries. “And you,” she says, turning to Edward. “You have some explaining to do, young man.”

Edward kisses me goodbye. “Give ‘em hell,” he says.

I roll my eyes and head on stage. I give Charlie a look like I will tell him later and then tell them that I want to sing _Close to You_ by The Carpenters. Dex takes out his keyboard and I nod that I am ready to begin. Charlie goes to stand in the wings with Renee so as Axel can sing backup.

“Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Just like me, they long to be, close to you…” I quickly give Edward a look, letting him know that this is for him. “Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, close to you…” I continue. “On the day that you were born, the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true…”

From the corner of my eye, I see Kate advancing upon them. I keep right on singing as best I can, all the while watching my mother dance with my father. I wonder how anyone could even try to ruin it, but Kate sure could. I find my singing begins to falter when she violently pushes my mother away from him and Renee lands against one of those sand bags backstage.

It is then that my knees give way when Kate plants a kiss on Charlie’s lips, and I hear Dex attempting to sing the chorus as I suddenly feel as if I am going to vomit or something. I still have the microphone clasped in my hand, and the whole of the audience can hear me as I begin wheezing. I am shaking completely and I see Edward torn from hauling Kate away, helping my mother up, and seeing to me. I look up at the stage lights, and it is then that I know I am dying. 

Edward has assisted Renee in getting up, and also pulled the curtain down so as nobody can see what is happening. I can barely see this from where I am lying, and I desperately want this constant pain to stop. There are tears coming out of my eyes and I am shaking, and I feel something like saliva threatening to burst forth from my mouth.

“Marie!” screams Edward, running towards me.

“What’s happening?!” demands Charlie, breaking away from Kate and coming over to me, concern etched into his face. 

“I can’t believe you’re this dense,” I can hear Renee saying. “She’s not your cousin.”

“I knew it!” Kate cries, running over. “She’s a fake, a fraud, a con!”

“Kate, please,” Charlie says. “What are you talking about, Renee?”

“She’s our daughter,” Renee replies, her tone desperate, knowing that she can’t hide my true identity anymore. “She’s our daughter…”

I raise my hand with my last bit of strength to try to get to the necklace. I wish that Kate would try to stampede us from the hallway after Edward got on his suit, but that Edward would remember what happened here and understand the severity of the situation…

But I cannot find it. It must have been knocked from my pocket in all the confusion, and I cannot speak. I can only move my eyes this way and that, and I can barely make out the conversation at hand. Kate is yelling at Charlie who is questioning Renee who is demanding that Edward help me.

I shut my eyes. “Kiss her,” I whisper. “Help…” My eyes manage to force themselves open then, and I see Kate looking angrily at Charlie and Renee. Then, it happened, and I couldn’t believe it.

Charlie leaned in and took Renee into his arms and kissed her. Kate stamped her foot in a jealous rage and stormed out of the backstage area. Charlie pulls Renee closer and closer to him, and I fear he will swallow her whole. They then pull away from each other, and he says softly, “I don’t know why I waited. It’s you, Renee…”

“It’s always been you, Charlie,” she whispers back, before leaning in to kiss him again.

I feel my strength returning twofold, and I manage to sit up. I smile as Edward guides me to my feet, and he surreptitiously retrieves the necklace for me. I give a thumbs up to Renee before I shiver at Charlie’s expression. “I suppose a formal explanation is owed…”

Charlie puts a hand on one hip, as he has his other arm wrapped protectively around Renee’s waist. “Clearly so,” he replies.

I sigh, leaning into Edward. “D—Charlie, I understand how confusing this must be, but just hear me out, please.”

“Go on.”

I shake my head, continuing to lean against Edward for support. “I _can’t_ tell you. What happens, I mean. And I can’t tell you what brought me here, either. I just…you don’t need to know. I just think you want to know…”

He sighs. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. I suppose that there are complex aspects of the future that Renee and I will only begin to understand when the time comes to understand them.”

I smile. “Thanks, D— Thanks, Charlie.”

He returns the smile. “No problem.”

“The people out there came for a show,” I say. “Charlie, Renee, why don’t the two of you give them an eyeful? Renee, take my solo.”

“What?! Me?!” she demands.

I nod. “You’ve earned it.”

She throws her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Hey, you’re my mom,” I whisper clandestinely in her ear, “you’re my family. That’s what family does—helps each other out.”

She grins and she, Charlie, and a perplexed Axel and Dex follow them.

Edward comes and stands next to me. “Do you really think that everything will turn out all right?” he asks.

I sigh and lean into him. “For now,” I say quietly.


	27. The Catwalk

I decide that Renee should formally take over with the singing for the rest of the dance, something that she is very excited about. She asks me again and again if I would like to sing with her, but I tell her that it’s her time. I also mention to her that it’s her last chance to make a good impression on Charlie—for good. She takes that seriously and is there all during the break, almost as if the show depends upon her, which it does.

I am looking for Edward when he tells me that he’s going to go to the facilities, but will return shortly. While Edward is in the bathroom, Axel and Dex come up to talk to me. It is then that I realize that Dad never mentioned them, and that they aren’t in any old pictures that him and Mom have. I shrug it off when they tell me that I should check out the catwalk. They tell me that the view of the stage from up there is incredible, although I am seeing red flags and hearing warning bells go off in my head.

Yet, I even surprise myself when I shrug and tell them that I will, and they show me the staircase to get there. I say that I will wait for Edward, but they tell me that they will tell him where I went. It is clear that the pair of them want me to go up there, and I really feel backed into a corner. Feeling as if I have no choice, I climb its spiral-ness and soon I am in the very belly of the catwalk, though I cannot shake this shaky feeling growing inside me.

As I near the center of the catwalk, I can clearly hear Edward asking for my whereabouts, yet Axel and Dex are denying everything. My blood runs cold. I know full well what has happened. I have been imprisoned again, but have no idea why. Do Axel and Dex hate me or something? Resent me for getting a whole lot of attention?

In the next moment, Renee starts singing _Physical_ by Olivia Newton-John, and she sounds amazing. However, I am so surprised by the sudden music filling my eyes that it causes me to slip. I look up and see Mr. Black there, grinning from ear to ear at my presence.

“Is this how you get your kicks?” he asks me.

I start to tremble as I step back. “You stay away from me.”

“Why?” he asks. “Afraid that I’ll kiss you again? Well, no matter. I’ll confirm your fears, Bella Swan.” He crosses the space between us and grabs me then, so tightly, and I am unable to get away. He forces his lips on mine, as well as his tongue down my throat.

“No!” I scream.

There is a trap door in the center of the catwalk for whatever reason, and it hasn’t been locked in the proper fashion. I trip over the little bit that is open and stumble until both my legs are through the door and dangling helplessly. I do not even grab Mr. Black’s helping hand, as I do not want him to touch me ever again. I soon find myself gripping a rope that has been left up there, and I find that I am shaking as I am suspended about fifteen or so feet above the safe ground.

I let out a scream as Mr. Black takes a knife out of his pocket and cuts the rope, and I let go of it out of shock, and then I have the immediate sensation that I am falling a thousand feet. I know full well that nobody can do anything for me but stare at me wide eyed and afraid as I plummet surely to my death. I shut my eyes, mentally preparing for it, when suddenly, I am caught by something.

I open my eyes and gasp, almost as if seeing him for the first time.

“Edward,” I whisper. The stage is about five or six feet above the floor, so my fall was only about nine or ten feet. Edward has fallen onto his knees because of the impact I caused when I fell. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Short intermission, people,” Charlie says, rushing backstage and pulling the rope that drops the curtain.

Edward nods and gets to his feet, putting me firmly on the ground. “What on earth possessed you to go up there in the first place?!”

“They did,” I say, my voice shaking as I point to Axel and Dex. “They told me that I’d get a great view of Renee singing, and that they’d tell you that I was up there. However, I walked into a freaking trap…”

“What kind of trap?” asks Charlie.

“A Black trap,” I growl.

“Excuse me?” demands Edward. “First he assaults you and now he…?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… He assaulted you?!” Charlie and Renee demand.

“Yes, and then he attempted to do so again,” I say quietly. “And not to mention that he seriously tried to kill me!”

“How?” Charlie demands.

“He cut the rope up there that almost made me fall!” I cry out.

“You’re lying,” Axel says, speaking for the first time.

“I don’t lie.”

“Yes, you do,” Dex goes on. “You’re framing our menton for assault and attempting to murder you. Now who’s the liar?”

“I’m _not_ a liar!” I yell.

“You’re upsetting her!” Renee cries, coming to stand protectively next to me. “If you upset Marie, you upset me!”

“Guys, seriously?!” Charlie says, glaring at Axel and Dex. “You two are my best friends, and you’re upsetting my family, people I care about…”

Renee turns and looks at Charlie in complete surprise at the sudden and most unexpected declaration. “You really care about me?” she asks. “Me? I… I figured after the kiss that you would…”

Charlie turns to look at her with a smile. “More than anything, Renee. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“I’m no man’s second choice,” she said firmly. “I don’t want you to want me just because Kate’s no longer a threat to us, you know, Charlie.”

Charlie sighs. “I understand.”

“But, I’m willing to give you a chance.”

He smiles, and it is almost as if the sun has risen on his face. “I’m glad you’ll give me a chance.” He crosses towards her and takes her hand.

“It’s not just a chance,” Renee replies. She stands on her toes and kisses him, and then I am whole again.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask Edward quietly.

He shakes his head. “I want to do one thing first.” He looks up at Charlie, and shoots him a smile. “Hey, Charlie, would you mind playing _Africa_ for everyone one more time? It’s mine and Marie’s song.”

Charlie nods. “Of course,” he says.

Axel goes to pull up the curtains, and the whole of the dance looks as if they heard every bit of the conversation.

“Um, _Africa_!” says Charlie awkwardly as Edward and I run to join the crowd, which clears a space for us.

I feel at peace when Edward puts his arms around my waist and I am able to rest my head on his shoulder. They play through the song, and then that ends the dance entirely. Before Edward and I leave, we go to say goodbye to Renee, who is still with Charlie.

“We’re leaving,” I say, smiling at them.

Renee nods like she understands. “I’ll miss you.”

I hug her. “Me too, Renee.”

She sighs and lets me go. “I hope to see you soon.”

I quickly reach into my bag and hand her a cassette tape of David Bowie singing _Heroes_. “I had a feeling that you would like this.”

Charlie looks at it in Renee’s hand. “David Bowie, huh?” he says with a smile, turning to Edward. “You’re good for Bella, you know that?”

Edward smiles. “I think so, too, Charlie.”

After a last hug for both of them, Edward and I head to Marie’s car. We must drive it back to her house and say goodbye to her as well. There is also part of me that wants to know about her date with Beaufort. Maybe, if she ended up with someone like him, she’d be able to turn her life around.

“Are you all right?” Edward asks.

I turn and smile at him. “Yes. Why?” I ask.

“Just asking,” he replies.

I nod at him as we navigate Marie’s car through the night.


	28. The River Vortex—Round II

Edward and I return to Marie’s house close to ten o’clock. We pull into the garage and notice that Sue and Harry’s car isn’t around, so we assume that Bella is home alone. However, when we arrive inside, we find the house empty. I decide to get our things together while Edward gets into the shower. After he’s finished, I take a shower as well, and am soon in comfortable jeans and a black t-shirt with a bow and arrow attacking a heart on it.

We are waiting with our things in the living room when Marie comes in close to eleven. She allows Beaufort to kiss her at the door before shutting it behind her, and gasps when she sees us sitting there. Marie grins at the pair of us and moves to sit down on the couch.

“So, how did everything go?” she asks.

“They’re together,” I reply.

“Yes!” she says, and then smiles. “Tell me what happened.”

We tell her everything—Mr. Black’s imprisonment of Edward; Kate’s acceptance of her defeat; Axel and Dex’s betrayal of me; Mr. Black’s double assault on me; and, finally, the grand finale when Renee and Charlie got together.

“How was your night?” I ask her.

Marie blushes. “Well, first of all Beaufort is amazing.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That fast, huh?”

She blinks and goes a deep red. “No!” she cries. “No, he only kissed me! I just meant that he has amazing manners and stuff.”

“Oh,” Edward says conversationally.

“Really,” Marie says, shooting him a look. “Anyhow, we went out for pizza and he was such a gentleman and he picked up the tab and everything…”

“Marie,” I say softly.

She snaps out of it. “Yes?”

I smiled at her then, so unbelievably happy for her. “I’m so glad that you had a good time, but Edward and I also have to get home…to 2013.”

Marie nods, sadness clouding her face. “I understand.”

“Don’t be sad,” I say quickly. “You’ll have Renee to be with, you know. And you and she can arrange double dates…”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I cross over to her and hug her. “I’ll miss you. But, hey, if you keep up that good behavior of yours, maybe everything will be all right.”

“We’ll still get to hang out?” Marie asks.

I nod. “Yeah, of course we will. See you in twenty-one years.”

“Just a few seconds for you,” Marie says.

I shrug. Then, remembering something, I reach into my pocket and hand and give Marie her necklace back. “Maybe when you need a little something…”

She grins and takes it and puts it around her neck. “I was almost thinking that wishes were for babies, but then you came along.”

I smile at her. “See you soon. I promise.” I get to my feet and slip my bag onto my shoulder before taking Edward’s hand. I put up my hand and wave to Marie before thinking, _I wish that Edward and I were safe at home on the day we left, yet we have each and every memory intact—except the ones where we proclaimed our love—but nobody from this time that knows the information we gave them, except for those whom we willingly shared it with._ _Please, I call upon you to take us home as quickly and as safely as possible_.

And then the vortex is right in front of us, next to Marie. She doesn’t see it, as she wasn’t in part of the wish making process. I watch as she waves goodbye again as Edward and I are sucked into it, and then we are in clouds the color of purple mountains majesty, as far as the eye can see. I am shaking again, but Edward enfolds me into his arms and then we are falling, falling, onto a plain of grass, where I see black.


	29. What If…?

I manage to get shakily to my feet, and notice that Edward is just picking up his head. I smile down at him. “Come on,” I say softly. I help him to his feet before checking my watch and see that the day is over. I look down and see that I am in the same clothes as before. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…”

“Hey, wait!”

I turn, almost surprised at hearing his desperate tone. “What?”

“I just think we should have a talk. We need to talk about your apparent feelings for me. It’s the mature thing to do here…”

“I’m not in a mature mood,” I reply.

“Please, don’t be that way…”

“I’ve got to go,” I say before running off into the distance. I get to the parking lot and am surprised to see my mother waiting outside of her Volvo.

“Hey!” she says, waving to me. She throws her arms around me. “Did you and Edward just get back from…there?” she asks.

I nod at her. “Yes.”

“I recognized the hair,” she says, fiddling with it. “Where is Edward, anyhow?” she asks me, peering around me and looking for him. “I thought that he would have been all over you or something…”

I shake my head. “I made it so he doesn’t remember anything.”

“He doesn’t remember where you were?” she asks in shock as she turns around and unlocks the car.

I shake my head as I open the passenger door slowly. “No,” I say softly to her in means of a reply. “He does remember where we went, but not all the love and the love… making,” I say in my most quiet voice.

Her head snaps to attention. “You two…?”

“Twice,” I whisper.

She sighs, knowing that she should be concerned about the situation, but she was a teenager once, too... “Wow…”

I shrug. “It didn’t mean anything,” I urge her as she sticks her keys into the ignition and pulls out of the parking space, and briefly wonder who I am attempting to assure more.

“But you love him, sweetheart,” she says, pulling into the line of traffic forming at the exit of the parking lot.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter,” she replies. We drive in silence for the next few minutes. “I need to stop at the store. I thought I’d make your favorite chicken tonight. Oh, and Jasper’s invited Alice over for dinner.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up for just a second, please,” I say as we pull into the grocery store’s parking lot. “What about the practice?”

My mother smiles as she pulls carefully into a parking space. “Your dad and I never went to med school, Bella.”

“No medical school?”

“No medical school,” she replied. “Just a quiet dinner at home with your father, Jasper, Alice, Marie, Beau...” 

“Marie?” I ask. “Marie’s coming?”

“Of course! She and Beau will be coming over for dinner as usual,” she says casually as the two of us walk out into the parking lot. “They’ll more than likely be bringing Liam and the twins, Maggie and Siobhan.”

“Marie isn’t on Death Row?” I ask.

My mother stops walking, shocked at my question. “No, but she’s sure prevented a few clients from ending up there. Beaufort too,” she continues, grabbing a shopping cart. “They own Machiavelli Law downtown.”

“Beaufort’s last name is Machiavelli?” I ask.

My mother nods. “It is.” She puts various fruits into the cart, as well as a bag of salad before walking over to the meat department. While she is looking over the packs of chicken breasts, two other women approach us. 

“Renee?” asks one of them.

She looks up. “Kate?!” she cries.

“I haven’t seen you since high school, before the band!” she cries. “This is my daughter, Rosalie. Rosalie, you go to school with Bella here, don’t you?”

Rosalie is clearly in awe of me, not something I am used to or entirely prepared for. “Yes,” she says. “Wow Bella, I am your biggest fan!”

“Thank you,” I say awkwardly. “And what is it I do again?”

She giggles. “You and your mother are, like, one of the most popular singers in the world, with your family band, Swan Fever,” says Rosalie. 

“Okay, Rosalie,” interrupts Kate politely with a smile. “Why don’t the pair of us continue with our shopping now? I presume Mrs. Swan and Bella have things to do.”

“Good to see you,” Mom tosses over her shoulder as we walk away.

“Swan Fever?” I ask.

“Your father picked the name,” she admits to me as we go down the frozen food aisle. “The plus side is we only tour once a year, in the summer. This summer we’re going to Europe! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah, exciting,” I say, putting my favorite ice cream—caramel cone—into the cart. “So, you and dad—you’re really not doctors?”

. . .

We return home at afternoon and pass by the garage, where Dad, Axel, and Dex are jamming together—I am surprised that they are still there, even though they tried to kill me. My mother kisses Dad as we walk through, and Dad grins and gives me a one-armed hug before getting back to his guitar. I’m surprised that we can still afford the same house we were living in before, now that neither of my parents are making their hefty doctor’s salary, but decide not to question it in front of anyone.

I help my mother unpack the groceries, making a bit of small talk before going upstairs to my bedroom to do my homework.

“Change into something nice for dinner,” she calls after me as I leave the kitchen as I snag a cup of yogurt from the fridge.

I go upstairs and into my bedroom, setting down the yogurt cup and going through my cherry wood wardrobe. I find a white ruffled blouse and a knee-length pink skirt and put those on. I run a brush briefly through my hair—which is just the way it was styled at the salon, the honey blonde streaks still intact—and stare at myself in the mirror. I put on a little blush and some lip gloss and a bit of mascara, but for the rest, leave my face a blank canvas. Almost as if I know that I have years and years to put makeup on my face, I don’t want to even begin to waste my time with it now.

I find that I cannot get into my European history, and soon discover that I’m bored. I cut corners a little and wish that all my homework is finished with at least ninety-five percent of the answers correct. I don’t want to seem too brilliant all of a sudden, just because I had some 1980’s experience.

I log on to my computer, and absentmindedly go to the social networking website and onto Edward’s profile. He has recently posted something along the lines of confusion, and his relationship status has gone from “single” to “it’s complicated” in the last hour. I sigh, gazing at that profile picture of his for a moment and allow myself to dream…

I push that from my mind and type another essay along the lines of wanting what we can’t have, just to have it, really. It is sort of a rough copy of what my final essay is going to be, and I am very proud of it. I hear a knock at my door and look up to see Alice standing there. I squeal and start to get up, but she comes to sit beside me on my bed, so that I am free to throw my arms around her in my utter happiness at seeing her.

“Wow, I’m seriously thinking fortnight syndrome,” she says mockingly. “It’s only been a few hours. What’s the deal?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just missed you.”

She smiles. “Why, thank you.”

“Anytime,” I reply.

She looks around my room a bit, almost as if she’s some kind of sleuth or conspirator of some kind. “What do you say that just the two of us take out the S60 before we eat?”

I pull back completely. “Beg pardon?” I ask, confused. “S60? Silly Ally, what can you be talking about?”

“Your car?” she says, standing up slowly. She nods to the set of hooks on my bedroom wall, where a shiny set of silver keys are hanging. “Why don’t you grab those, and I’ll go tell Jasper that we’re going out for a hot minute?” she asks, walking towards my bedroom door and out into the hallway.

I follow her out into the hallway. “Jasper’s here?” I ask.

Alice makes a face, almost as if I am slowly but surely coming down with a case of incompetence. “Well, of course he’s here—where else would he be?” she says. “Your brother may go to the University of Washington, Bella, but he’s not involved in the whole frat house crowd, but you knew that. Ever since everyone in the frat house he pledged got alcohol poisoning, he moved back in six months ago.”

“And…law school?” I ask.

She grins, an indulgent look entering her eyes. “Well, at least that hasn’t changed. He’s still going to be my little Jasper lawyer.”

“I heard that!” Jasper says from down the hall.

She rolls her eyes. “Until I return,” she says in a voice hinting at potential naughty behavior before walking gaily down the hall to Jasper’s bedroom, just a few feet away.

I get up and grab my keys and go downstairs, just to see if my mother needs any help with the cooking for the night ahead. I tell her that Alice has suggested a quick drive before we eat, and she smiles in approval. She says that we have about a half an hour before the evening meal is ready, and that Bella won’t be there for at least another fifteen minutes. I nod and go out the side door of the kitchen and down the stone path of the garden. I go out the back gate where I see the S60 parked and waiting for me.

I look down at my keys and smile. I click the automatic unlock button and hear the sweet sound of the car opening for me. I grin at the leather interior and open the door and sit behind the wheel. I stick the keys into the ignition without turning them and put my hands firmly on the steering wheel. I adjust the mirrors and put on my seatbelt when Alice comes out the back gate and grins and waves at me.

She gets in through the passenger door and shuts it behind her. She puts on her seatbelt and claps her hands. “Ready,” she says.

I roll my eyes and grab ahold of my keys and turn them to the right. I turn off the emergency break and adjust the gear shift out of park and into first gear. I lightly press the gas pedal down with one foot and keep the other foot close to the break, just in case. I go down the street and turn the corner and keep on driving until I get to where Edward and I slept together at the now gone hotel.

I stop the car in the abandoned lot just next to it and take my keys out of the ignition, thus turning off the car completely.

“Why did we stop here?” Alice asks.

I sigh. “Because I have to tell you something.”

“What?” she asks.

I turn and look at her; two tears—one for each cheek—going down my face, and shake my head, knowing that I have to tell someone. “I need you to promise not to be judgmental and to really believe every word that I’m about to tell you. Okay?”

Alice nods; although slightly perplexed, I know full well that she will give me the benefit of the doubt. “Of course I will.”

I push back my hair and show her the necklace, still clasped around my neck. “Do you know what this is?” I ask her.

She nods. “Of course I do—it’s your necklace,” she replies. “You got it from Marie that Christmas after you turned fourteen. I remember that she and James were in London on a second honeymoon, and Liam was staying with you guys, and she was in labor with Maggie and Siobhan, and that’s why she missed your birthday.”

I nod, pretending to understand and be fully aware of this knowledge that I’d previously known nothing about. “Yeah, that’s right,” I reply. “There are two things that I have to tell you, though, Alice, and you’ve got to listen carefully.”

“Of course I’ll listen.”

“This may sound crazy, but touch the necklace and wish for something, anything.” I smile a bit as she hesitates. “Trust me, Alice.”

She leans forward and tentatively touches the necklace. “I wish that Jasper and I would get married someday.”

I shake my head at her. “Not that kind of wish,” I say. “It will come true, but that whole ‘someday’ bit won’t work. Let me show you.” I touch the jewel in the center of my necklace myself, and it is then that I remember that it is still attached by the Cleopatra gold collar from the dance. I banish the thought from my mind and keep my hand firmly on the jewel. “I wish that I had a real jade bracelet.”

Just then, a pale green, real jade, bracelet appears on my left arm.

Alice pulls back, her eyes widening with a sudden moment of terror and shock. “I mean... I don’t know. Wow,” she gasps. “I love jade.”

“I know,” I say, slipping it off my arm and handing it over to her. “Why do you think that I was so specific?”

She takes the bracelet and slips it carefully onto her right wrist. “So…that necklace of yours, grants wishes?”

I nod. “Yes. And there’s one wish in particular that I wished for just earlier this afternoon that I have to tell you about.”

“What did you wish for?” she asks.

I sigh, lowering my eyes. “Well, I wanted to meet my parents before they got all wrapped up in their work.”

“So…what happened?”

“Well, Edward and I went back to 1982.”

“Are you kidding me?” she demands, and peek up at her, noticing that her eyes are slightly hurt at what I’ve said and done. “You took Edward back in time but not me?”

“That was an accident,” I say quietly in immediate defense mode. “But I made it so the poor guy doesn’t remember specific things that happened between us during the trip.”

“What specific things?” asks Alice.

I sigh. “Do you ever remember a Best Western Plus being here?”

“Yeah, like a long time ago. Why?”

“Because that’s where one of the specific things happened.”

“You _slept_ with Edward?!”

I grit my teeth uncomfortably and look away. “Yes.”

Alice squeals and throws her arms around me, cheering mightily. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she chants.

I cross my arms. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“You _love_ him!”

I look away. “Yes…”

She squeals again and claps her hands. “You love my brother!”

I roll my eyes. “Look who’s talking, Alice.”

Alice is still raving about it when we arrive back at my house. I tell her to put a sock in it and to go get Jasper. I enter the living room and see Bella and James sitting there, talking with my mother. I grin and wait to be noticed, because I know full well not to interrupt.

“Bella!” Marie cries when she sees me, standing up and running across the room towards me, her eyes bright and her smile exuberant. She throws her arms around me. “It’s only a few hours for you, I know,” she says softly. “Your mom was just telling me that it was today that you went back and fixed things.”

I grin at her and pull back to get a good look at Beau. “Hey, Beau,” I say, and allow him to hug me. “Was I right about Marie?” I ask.

“Well, yes. But at first you wanted me to wait until now to call her.”

“Oh, I love that story!” Marie says giggling.

“I think we’re all here now,” I say.

“Not yet,” my mother says. “There are three more to come.”

“Who?” I ask. “Dad and Axel and Dex?”

“No,” my mother says, as three sets of feet come down the stairs.

I turn and look to see Jasper coming in with Alice, and a boy version of me coming into the room. “Emmett?” I say, knowing what my name was to have been, had I been a boy.

Emmett grins. “Hey, little sis,” he says, putting an arm casually around my shoulder and kissing me on the forehead. “I know I’m six minutes older than you, but the awestruck reaction when I enter the room is getting really old.” He turns to our mother and grins at her. “Mom, I’m really starving here. Are we going to eat anytime soon?” he asks, going into the dining room, with our mother following in his wake.

“He may be six minutes older than you, Bella, but you’re the one who skipped your sophomore year,” Marie says with a chuckle, before stepping towards her husband. “Beau, why don’t you call the kids? Last I saw of them, they were in the backyard.”

“Will do, Counselor,” he says, leaning down to kiss her.

Marie returns the kiss, before stepping back, one hand still on his cheek in a moment of pure and unadulterated tenderness. “Thank you, Counselor,” she replies, watching him walk out of the room for a moment before she turns to me and smiles, her face flushed. “Without those long hours at the office, the added stress of not conceiving right off the bat seemed to increase the miracle twofold.”

“So…I’m a twin?” I ask.

Marie nods. “You are a twin.”

“Emmett Swan,” I say, nodding.

“Well, technically Emmett Charles Swan,” Marie clarifies.

“Why doesn’t he have a car?” I ask.

“Your parents don’t think that he’s mature enough,” she replies, waving it away with a perfectly manicured hand. “He takes the bus, but I think he’s going to succeed in begging them for a motorcycle sometime soon...”

I nod. “Who else are we waiting for?” I ask her.

“Just Rosalie and Edward,” she replies, walking into the dining room.

“Edward?” I think, shivering again.

Alice comes back in and grins at me. “Edward just texted, and he and Rosalie should be here any minute.” She gives me a hug, and I think I can hear her whispering something, but I’m sure that I’m imagining things. The doorbell rings and I move to answer it while Alice goes back into the dining room, where Jasper is more than likely waiting for her.


	30. The Pieces Come Together

I turn to the door and see Edward and Rosalie standing there, dressed quite nicely. I greet them and invite them in and walk into the dining room, yet I soon notice that my mother has set the rather large table on the veranda instead. I step outside and take the spot beside Emmett without thinking and take part in general dinner conversation of the day.

School is mentioned, plus the non-confidential aspects of Marie and Beaufort’s cases, as well as our upcoming tour of Europe that summer. I try and fail to eat my grandmother’s recipe of chicken parmesan and I find that my ability to chew is the real culprit here.

Then Marie and Beaufort are getting to their feet, arms around one another. “Marie and I would just like to say something,” Beaufort says proudly.

“To Bella,” Marie says, lifting her wine glass, filled with white wine. “To Bella and Edward, because they are two wonderful people. They may not know it yet, but things in life changes, for better or for worse, yet, things always tend to work out.”

As they sit down, I get to my feet, managing to plaster on a smile. “Thank you,” I say amongst the applause, which embarrasses me further. “Mom, I… I’m actually not feeling well. Could I please go upstairs?”

“You don’t want dinner?” she asks.

“That’s a first,” Emmett mutters.

It takes all that’s left in me not to hit him. “Please, Mom,” I say, almost desperately, as soon as she is finished scolding Emmett.

“Of course,” she says.

I give her a smile and leave the veranda. I walk inside through the dining room and the kitchen, living room, and finally to the stairs. I rush up them and lock my door behind me, leaning up against the door and dashing the tears from my eyes. It is then that I see a rather large envelope on my bed, and I go towards it. The return address is a massive sticker from the University of Washington, and it is addressed to me, and not to Jasper.

Surprised, I rip it open carefully, and see various forms and such. On the top, there is a letter from the dean of the school, informing me that, based on my academic performance, that my principal decided to move me up to senior classes, and that there would be a place at the University of Washington next fall if I would like it.

I couldn’t believe it—really, I couldn’t. Was it the fact that I had scored a 2350 on my SAT? I honestly didn’t know. Maybe I was a one millionth applicant or something, or maybe Jasper had impressed someone so much that they owed him a favor.

I set aside the acceptance letter after skimming it and get up from my bed, crossing the room and go to sit in my window seat. I part the lacy curtains that I’m glad survived my wish and peer outside. The sun is setting, and I push the windows open, the warm, mid-April breeze tickling my arms and fingers. I am looking out towards the trees in the distance, illuminated by the setting sun, and watching the orange glow of the sunset as it falls behind them, when I hear something like a bang below me. Shocked, my eyes follow the sound, and I find myself lowering my eyes to the ground below.

“Edward!” I cry, my eyes widening. “What are you doing here?” I demand, hearing a door close down the hall (it is more than likely Jasper or Emmett attempting to spy on me) and quickly realizing that I am completely alone with him for the first time since being locked in the abandoned classroom by that creeper Mr. Black. “You know that Alice is downstairs with Jasper and the rest of my family without a chaperone. Why are you even here, anyhow?” I say, knowing full well that I am giving him an ultimatum.

He shakes his head as he climbs my dad’s ladder, which he’s propped up against the side of my house, leading directly to my bedroom window. “I came to see you,” he says, sending chills down my spine.

“Me?” I ask. “What do you mean?”

Edward climbs completely up the ladder, which causes me to dart back from the windowsill and stand mere inches from my bed. He climbs into my bedroom and is standing just feet in front of me. “I had to see you.”

“Why?” I ask.

Edward smiles and reaches into his pocket of his suit pants. He then produces a black stone; it is smooth and shiny, and then he grins at me. “Did you think that you were the only one?” he asks, holding out the stone to me.

I take it and weigh it in my hand. “It grants wishes?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes.”

“So…what does this have to do with me?” I ask, handing it back to him.

He returns the stone to his pocket. “To be honest, I had this sinking feeling that you were hiding something from me when we…got back.”

“And you asked your stone to reveal what I hid from you?”

He sighs. “Well, all the stone was able to communicate was that you did hide something from me, but not what it was.”

“Oh,” I say softly.

“That’s why I came,” he goes on. “I wanted to know what you hide from me on the journey or before the journey or after the journey.”

“It’s not important.”

“Then why do I feel that it is?” He turns me around and stares into my eyes. “I know you’re not a liar, Bella. Just tell me the truth, please.”

I sigh. “I don’t think that I should.”

“Why don’t you think so?” he asks.

“Because I just don’t think it’s right…”

Edward pulls me into his arms into a hug, and I find I never want to be out of his arms, ever again, for as long as I live. “You know full well that you can tell me anything, Bella. Just be up front and get it over with.”

I push away from him and walk across my bedroom, and the moment is gone. “It’s just not that easy,” I say in a desperate tone. “You can’t just say what you want me to say and just expect everything to be normal.”

He sits beside me where I’ve sat on my window seat. “Come on, Bella. I know that you’re just itching to tell me.”

I look away. “So what?” I throw at him, not wanting to come clean. “How do I know what you’ll do once I tell you?”

Edward sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t understand your hesitation.”

“Because I’m smart,” I counter. “I mean, the thing that you want me to say is one of the most personal things ever, and it’s not to be taken lightly, or to be thrown around.”

“Okay, fine,” Edward replies.

“Fine…what?” I ask. 

“Fine, I won’t throw it around,” he says with a smile. “Now, will you please tell me what it is that’s such a deep dark secret?”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Does anyone know?”

“Just my mother,” I admit. “And…well, Marie…”

“Marie knows everything, I think.”

I smile ruefully. “No wonder she and Beaufort put together that lawyer practice. I know that you have to be smart to be a lawyer.”

“Which is why your brother is going to be one,” he goes on. “And that probably just one of the reasons why Alice fell for him, I think.”

My eyes flash to his. “You know about that?”

He shrugs. “Of course,” he replies. “I’ve always known.”

“And how do you feel about it?” I ask.

“I think it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

I nod at him. I can smell the scent of the food wafting from the veranda, and know full well that my mother will also be making chocolate cake to go with the caramel cone. I feel the emptiness in my stomach, as I have not technically eaten in over twenty years. I make myself push the thought aside as I suddenly become aware once again that I am not the only person in my bedroom.

“What?” I ask Edward.

“I just wish that you would tell me what I want to know.”

I shake my head at him and turn away. “I can’t tell you because it’s too late,” I whisper. “It’s really too late, Edward…” I whisper brokenly.

“What’s too late?” he asks.

I turn and look at him. “Like you don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

I shake my head. “You’re here with Rosalie…”

“You act as if you’re jealous or something.”

I bit my lip. “Should I be?” I ask.

“No!”

“Why?!” I demand. “Look at me, look at her! She’s like some model that walked out of _Vogue_ and I’m just some girl who’s one of the lead singers of a family band! The only way that anyone could ever be interested in me is if they wanted fifteen minutes of fame!”

“Bella, you don’t understand.”

“And what don’t I understand here, Edward? You’re now going out with every high school seniors, quarterback, and captain of the wrestling teams’ dream!”

“I never said that I was dating Rosalie.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t have to.”

“I brought her here, yes. She just needed me to give her a ride.”

I scoff then, sarcasm in my voice. “Okay, then. Tell me, if she’s not here with you, then why is she here?”

“She’s here to see Emmett, of course!”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

He nods. “Yeah, they’ve been a thing for almost a year now…”

“But…Emmett is a sophomore…”

“So? Rosalie’s a sophomore, too. She just happens to have two or three junior and senior classes.”

“But what about Kate?” I ask.

“What about Kate?”

“In the market today…her mother acted like…”

“Kate doesn’t know,” Edward replies. “Rosalie is afraid that her mother will call the paparazzi over to their house or something.”

I shake my head at him, confused. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you here to make sure Jasper keeps his hands off of Alice?”

“No!” Edward cries, then hesitates. “Well, partly. But I really did come here for you.”

“Why would you do that?” I whisper.

“Honestly?” he asks. “I just had to see you.”

My eyes fill with tears. “I’ll dish out honestly. You want to hear honest?”

“I do.”

“I love you,” I say, my voice wavering then. “I’m sorry if I did anything to make you doubt me, but I do, I love you.”

Edward blinks and looks at me, his dark eyes absorbing the meaning of my words. “I still don’t understand why you would let me forget everything.”

I lean in and kiss him. “I just wanted you to have a choice.”

“A choice…?”

“Between me and Rosalie,” I admit, lowering my eyes, “and between anyone else you might be interested in, in some way or another. That’s what the reason was before, anyway. I mean, how was I to know about her and Emmett? I don’t know, Edward, I guess I just didn’t want to make you feel obligated in any way…”

Edward turns my face to look at his. “I would never feel obligated, or compelled, or forced, or duty-bound, or anything like that towards you, Bella Swan. I love you, and I want to be with you forever.”

I smile at him. “Forever is a really long time, you know.”

“Then let’s start with now,” he replies. “I want to start with ‘now’ as the beginning of our forever. The reason being that I am utterly and passionately and ardently—”

“Ardently?” I ask.

“Mr. Darcy said it to Keira Knightley,” he replies.

“Ah.”

“Anyhow… Completely and fully in love with you. I never want to see anyone else, and I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“Now is good,” I say softly, allowing him to kiss me, forcing my lips shut to make sure the overwhelming sigh cannot escape them. “Now is a good beginning for forever.”

I guess you could say that there is something in everything, and something about everything, and everyone, you come into contact with during your lifetime. That’s what I learned when Edward got shot by that madman in the park, that I could never be parted from him, ever. But in this moment, with Edward’s arms wrapped around me and my lips on his, I learned that there is something about time.


End file.
